


Cortado

by UnsteadyGenius



Series: Bittersweet [2]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Basically expect your heart to hurt reading this, Brotherly Ignis and Noctis, Collaboration, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Gladnis, Heartbreak, I'm having way too much fun with this one, M/M, Sorry Not Sorry, The Coffee Shop AU that no one asked for, The Promptis is real with this one, how meta can we get
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-31
Updated: 2018-03-01
Packaged: 2019-02-24 08:46:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 48,636
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13210191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UnsteadyGenius/pseuds/UnsteadyGenius
Summary: Ignis owns Stella's, the best coffee shop in Insomnia. Everything's fine. The business is great. Life is good.Right?No, not when Noctis and Prompto click as well as they do. Not when Gladio comes around with his new 'friend'. Not when Ignis is trying to keep it together and his life is slowly falling apart.Seriously, owning a coffee shop in the midst of heartbreak is hard work.





	1. It All Seems So Simple

**Author's Note:**

> So, this came about after a shit ton of screaming with @moonsides. I LOVED her Coffee Shop AU idea and SOMEHOW we got on the topic of Gladnis. One thing led to another and we got the brilliant idea that I write the Gladnis side of her Coffee Shop story. Our stories can be read separately from each other, but I implore you to go read hers. We are bouncing various scenes off each other so it'll be fun to see both sides of the situation. 
> 
> Holly, thank you for screaming with me about these pairings. YOU'RE THE BEST.
> 
> LET'S DO THIS. GET READY FOR THE COFFEE SHOP AU THAT NO ONE ASKED FOR BUT WE'RE BRINGING YOU ANYWAY.

_**Cortado –** An espresso cut with a small amount of warm milk to reduce the acidity._  


Ignis sat outside, legs crossed and his cup of coffee—black, no cream or sugar—in hand, small, steady ribbons of steam coming from the mug. There were some papers spread out on the table in front of him and he waited patiently for the young man he would be interviewing.

It was unseasonably warm for this time of year today, something that Ignis really didn’t appreciate—especially when he was such a scarf and nice sweater kind of guy. The weatherman mentioned something about a cold front coming through later this week, but they were never accurate and Ignis just learned to take their predictions with a grain of salt. He really did hope for some colder weather soon, though.

The only good thing about this weather was that it allowed Ignis a chance to step outside from the coffee shop he owned for some fresh air, away from the controlled chaos behind the counter. It was a small joint that he named Stella’s, bought because of . . . well, he didn’t want to think about _who_ spurred him on to buy it or why he did it in the first place. _That_ memory was too painful for him to dredge up right now, so he opted to shove it aside for the time being and take another sip of his coffee.

Regardless of how he came to be the owner of Stella’s, it didn’t stop the fact that business was booming. From all the classes he’d taken in college and all the articles he poured over on the internet before becoming a business owner, Ignis assumed he wouldn’t turn a profit for at least the first year, maybe more. Quite the opposite was happening though and Ignis was finding that he couldn’t run the place alone.

At first, it was just Ignis and his cousin, Noctis Caelum. Well, actually, it was Noctis’ father, Regis, that made the suggestion that Noctis learn about responsibility by taking a position in Ignis’ shop. Ignis really couldn’t deny that the help would be well-appreciated; besides, without Regis’ generous monetary loan, this whole thing wouldn’t have happened, anyway. So Ignis taught Noctis everything he would need to know should Ignis need to be away for more than five minutes (because, if he were being completely honest with himself, the thought of letting _anyone_ solely run things without his eye over them was enough to give him a heart attack).

That was all fine and well, but word of mouth is a funny thing and the number of customers coming in doubled and tripled faster than they could handle. _Everyone_ wanted to try this new coffee place. _Everyone_ wanted to have one of these famous pastries that sold out before noon _every. Single. Day._ While Ignis was proud of his hard work and extremely flattered by the praise and glowing reviews, he still left every night a stressed-out mess. There was no way that only Noctis and Ignis could run this place.

So, at Ignis’ prodding, Noctis brought in a friend to interview. Her name was Lunafreya Nox Fleuret and Ignis hired her on the spot. She was quiet, charming, and the regulars all _adored_ her. Something about her also kept Noctis in line and they worked well together. But business kept growing and, once again, Ignis found himself looking for more help.

His . . . Gods, even the thought of the name evoked strong emotions. Ugh, there was that bitter taste in his mouth again and his stomach suddenly felt like lead inside of him. Anyway, _Gladio_ offered up the help of his little sister, Iris, suggesting she help out when she wasn’t in school or at her one of a million extracurriculars. Ignis acrimoniously remembered when he hinted at Gladio coming in, falling short of _begging_ for help, but as a bartender at the nearby Bahamut’s Brewery, it left little time for the man to do much else when he was off.

There was one barista he hired, a girl that used Luna as a referral because she _swore_ she knew her non-existent sister. Without any other options, Ignis hired her on, but that proved to be a huge mistake. She was rude to all the customers that came through, mocking them as soon as they left the shop and rolling her eyes with every drink she had to make. Her laziness knew no bounds, but Ignis tolerated her. The last straw came when he perused social media, coming across her rant about what an awful place Stella’s was, how horrific the staff was, and the pressure she felt she was under.

Ignis fired her the very next day, but it left everyone back in the precarious standing of being well-understaffed for how busy they were.

So, without anyone else to hire on, and with all his referrals exhausted, that was how Ignis ended up here, ready to interview someone new. It was nerve-wracking, considering the position they just came from with hiring someone outside of their little circle, but it was the only solution Ignis could come up with. He hadn’t expected much when he put up that sign in the window, knowing full well the types of people who would probably apply. Yes, it was a coffee shop, but it was _Ignis’_ coffee shop and fuck if he didn’t have high expectations on those who wanted to work for him.

Two days after putting up the sign, a cheerful and bubbly young man came bouncing in the door and asked for an application. Ignis paused, eyeing the kid just over the rims of his glasses and trying to place where he knew him from. It wasn’t like Ignis really went anywhere and he didn’t do much outside of Stella’s, so the fact that this face was so striking to him was _huge_.

The blonde didn’t look to be Ignis’ age, maybe just a few years younger, so they definitely didn’t have any classes together in school. He seemed harmless enough and Ignis slid the generic application across the counter, pleased when he tried to hand the kid a pen and he, instead, brandished his own, waving it with proud flourish.

After he filled out the application at the small table in the corner and handed it back, he waved goodbye and bounced away in the same manner as he did when he came in. Ignis took the application into the back office and, as soon as he read the name on the top of the sheet, a smirk curled and pulled at the corners of his lips.

Prompto Argentum.

 _Bingo_.

No wonder the damn kid looked so familiar!

Ignis remembered Prompto from many, many years ago as a small, portly child with glasses perched on his chubby, red cheeks. How could Ignis forget him when he’d been Noctis’ best friend and literal shadow for a very memorable chunk of their childhood? Prompto and Noctis had been attached at the hip as kids, never one without the other. They were a set. A pair. If one was around, you could be sure to find the other following right behind. Ignis smiled at the memories of the two boys roughhousing, laughing all hours of the night until Ignis would come into their room—barely older than them himself—telling them they _needed_ to go to sleep or Noctis’ dad would be upset. Ignis _swore_ he couldn’t imagine Noctis ever being happier than he was when he was around Prompto.

Then, one day, Prompto just _left_. He moved away and it broke Noct’s heart. Ignis spent countless nights consoling the boy, telling him that Noct would make new friends. That he would be ok. But Noctis wailed and cried in Ignis’ arms, saying he didn’t _want_ new friends. He wanted _his_ friend. _His Prompto_.

There was a framed photo in Regis Caelum’s office of the two boys flashing toothy grins while they wore flower crowns that they’d made. The sun was shining, but their smiles made everything look so much brighter. Ignis would pick that photo up and study it many times over the years. It had been his life goal to ensure that Noctis would someday be as happy as he was in that photo. A huge order that would take a miracle to fill, but Ignis could only hope.

Even though time ticked by and the years flew by in a blur of growing pains and getting older, Ignis knew Noctis never really got over the blonde kid moving away. He never did find as true a friend as Prompto. Yeah, Ignis and Noctis were friends and Ignis would go to the ends of Eos for Noctis if asked, but there was a line there that they never crossed. It was a line of weird professionalism, despite their familial bond. Ignis tried on more than one occasion to let Noctis in, and he was sure that Noctis did the same, but they were never the type to stay up late into the night giggling over stupid shit or rambling about whatever came to their minds. Ignis was a man far beyond his years and Noctis was . . . well, he was Noctis. Aloof, reserved, and sullen.

                Noctis had _no_ idea what Ignis had up his sleeve with this interview and hiring on Prompto and if Ignis had an evil, villainous laugh, he’d cut to that right about now.

A gust of wind attempted to blow the application papers from the table, but he snapped back to reality long enough to slam a hand on top to keep them from flying away. Then, Ignis looked up and smiled in recognition. That very wind ushered in a very chipper Prompto, enough happiness on his face to be almost infectious.

“Hey! Am I late?”

There was no doubt about it; this was still the same little kid that Ignis remembered as a child, despite losing all his baby fat and gaining a few piercings along his ear and . . . wait, was that a _tongue_ piercing?!

“No, not at all,” Ignis nodded, extending a hand to shake Prompto’s outstretched one. “Please have a seat. I hope you don’t mind sitting outside; it was getting entirely too stuffy inside and I needed the fresh air.”

Prompto sat across from Ignis, his eyes widened and bright in a sort of innocence and wonder that comes from exiting one’s formative teenage years and entering the scary world of adulthood. Poor Prompto, Ignis laughed in his own head. This boy had no idea how cruel and callous life could be. So naïve. So pure. Too precious for this world.

“Nah, man! This is perfect! No worries!”

Ignis studied the face in front of him and then looked back at the application. He’d already read it several times since Prompto first placed it back in his hand. The kid would be perfect for the job: Barista at a coffee shop before he moved back to Insomnia. Intelligent. People-pleaser. Seemed to follow directions. Optimistic to a fault and the literal personification of the very sunshine that bore down on them. At this point, the interview was just a formality. Ignis knew he was going to hire him and he knew that Prompto would be a great addition to the team.

But what Ignis really looked for was that Prompto could bring back the light in Noctis’ life that seemed to dull and fade away the day that Prompto left. Ignis loved Noctis like the little brother he never had, and it killed him to see Noctis drift through life without purpose or meaning.

“So . . . Prompto, is it?” he started, flippantly, like he didn’t have a clue who he was. “Tell me a little about yourself. What brings you here?”

Prompto blew a puff of air up to rid a piece of hair that had fallen over his eye. He tucked another strand behind his ear, revealing the line of studs along his cartilage. Before Ignis could ask the typical ‘Did those hurt?’ question that he was _sure_ Prompto had heard more times than he could count, Prompto shrugged and answered. “Well, I used to live here when I was little. I went to school right up the road and everything. Then, my dad picked us up and moved us away. Umm . . .” he seemed to get lost in thought, trying to find something to dazzle Ignis into hiring him. Ignis waited patiently, taking another sip of his coffee while Prompto figured out what to say. “What else . . . I, uh . . . I used to work at a coffee shop in Gralea and they were going to promote me to management, but then I got into college and dad wanted me to move here and get settled on my own. I dunno . . . I kinda need some extra spending money for college and stuff . . . so . . . here I am!”

Ignis plucked the pen he’d brought outside with him off the table and pretended to write some notes in a notebook. In all fairness, he _was_ writing some notes, but it was just little words and phrases to allude that he was giving thought to Prompto’s words.

And, maybe he was doodling a stick figure or two. A cat. A behemoth.

Ignis could be a talented artist and doodler when he wanted to be.

When enough time had passed, Ignis put his pen down and looked back at the application. “Yes, I see. You have the experience as well, so I’m assuming not much will be needed in the way of training?”

“N—no sir!” Prompto stuttered, wringing his hands under the table and smiling. It was funny; from the surface of the table up, Ignis appreciated the forced composure that Prompto tried to exude. Under the table, though, he knew Prompto was a fidgeting disaster. He wondered if Prompto would squeeze his hands right off his wrists if he kept him in the interview much longer . . . even if the interview had barely started. “I’m a very fast learner. I love coffee, I love making people happy, and I think I could be a great addition to your company.”

Ignis snorted. _Company_? It was a stereotypical hipster coffee joint; there was no _company_ about it. He appreciated Prompto for at least trying though, so kudos there. “How are you with working the morning shift?”

Prompto’s forehead wrinkled with thought, his eyebrows pushed higher. “Er . . . morning shift?”

“Yes. My doors open promptly at 5 am. I need someone I can rely on. Someone who can be presentable and ready to go before the sun is even up.”

Prompto registered what Ignis was saying and jabbed a thumb to his chest, flashing a grin. He was so proud of himself. “I’m your dude. I’ve never been late to a shift, I give ample notice if I need time off, and I—knock on wood—rarely get sick bad enough to stay home. Though there was one time when I was a kid and this one other kid was cooking and he gave me food poisoning . . . but I think it was an accident. I _think_. I was out of school for like three days after that! But other than that, yeah, I’m good with reliability and morning shifts.”

Ignis choked back a laugh, remembering exactly the moment that Prompto was referring to. He’d only been in the kitchen a handful of times at that point in his life and it wasn’t _his_ fault that the milk he used had been spoiled! Or that he wasn’t supposed to mix this ingredient with that one. Thank the Six that Prompto didn’t seem to hold it against Past Ignis, nor that he realized that the same kid who gave him food poisoning was now interviewing him for this job.

“Mmmhmm . . . and how are you with coworkers who may or may not appreciate that type of vivacious personality that early? Are you alright with those who prefer to gripe and complain about the lack of sun at such an early hour?”

Not that Ignis was cynical about Noct’s lack of drive and motivation in the morning. Nope, not at all.

Ignis’ question caught Prompto off guard. He frowned and looked down at the cuticles of his nails, picking absentmindedly and struggling to not bite at them before turning his attention back to Ignis. “I suppose I could cheer them up if they let me. Give ‘em the ol’ Prompto Razzle Dazzle!”

His smile was contagious and Ignis couldn’t help but chuckle at his choice of words. Ignis knew Prompto would be good for Noctis. How could he _not_ be? “Indeed.” Ignis reached over and gripped the handle of his coffee mug, the beverage now barely lukewarm, and took a drink, letting the mood settle for a minute so they could get back to matters at hand. “You seem like a pleasant fellow, Prompto. If your references check out, I’d like to have you in this week sometime for the first shift. The young man working mornings isn’t too delighted with the shift situation we have right now, but I can only work so many days in a row before I must sleep, and my other two employees have obligations that deter them from taking on the first shift. The boy is cantankerous at best that early, but I have a hunch that you both will get along swimmingly if I do say so myself.”

Prompto leaned forward in his seat and Ignis noticed he was fighting to not play with that wretched tongue ring of his between his lips. Hmph, that may be something that has to go. “Wait . . . are you saying . . . “

Ignis nodded, following his words and reading his mind. “It would be my pleasure to offer you the job.”

How Prompto managed to look even _more_ excited than he did when he first came into the coffee shop was beyond Ignis, but he was glad that _someone_ in the building would at least _act_ thrilled about coming in to work (Not naming any names . . . Noctis . . .). “I got the . . . You’re giving me the . . .”

“Yes, Prompto, you have the job.”

Prompto threw a fist in the air and stood up, knocking the chair backward in the process as he took two large steps over to give Ignis the _biggest_ hug. Awkwardly, Ignis stiffened up but still patted his back. A congratulatory back pat? “Thank you so much, Ignis! Do you know how bad the job market is lately?? I was beginning to think there were no jobs _anywhere_ in Insomnia!”

“I hope you have that same enthusiasm on your first day. Astrals know how hard working in this industry can be.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad once you get the hang of it. You get to meet some awesome people, and the free drinks . . . wait, do we get free drinks?”

Ignis was, for the most part, a pretty strict, no-nonsense kind of guy. When it came to caffeine, though, he knew the throes of going without the sweet drug in his veins were not worth it. As long as his employees didn’t go overboard with the drinks they made, and if business was good, then Ignis had no problem with letting his inventory cost increase a little if it meant happier workers. It was a pretty sweet tradeoff.

Prompto finally let go of Ignis and they stood a few minutes longer discussing other aspects of the job, what the uniform consisted of, and other little things here and there before Prompto waved and walked away.

Ignis picked up the application and the near-empty mug of coffee, along with his notebook and pen, and opened the door back into the coffee shop, where the sharp smell of coffee grounds and yummy pastries assaulted his senses. Luna flipped idly through a gossip magazine that someone had left behind on one of the tables and only looked up when she heard the chime of the door as Ignis entered. “How’d it go?” she asked warmly.

“Better than I expected, though I don’t believe he nor Noctis will have a clue who the other is at first. It has been far too long, and you know how a child’s memory grows fuzzy over time.”

She mulled this thought in her head before responding. “Hmmm, true. But, do you think he’ll be good for Noctis? That poor guy always looks so—”

“Tired? Dead? Believe me, I’ve used my fair share of words to describe him in my lifetime, but yes, this will be beneficial for him.” Ignis sighed and pulled his glasses from his face, holding them up to the light and then wiping them with the hem of his shirt. When he put them back on, they were smudged and dirtied even more than they were before. It was a losing battle trying to get them spotless.

Luna closed the magazine and pushed it to the side, grabbing a dishrag from a sanitation bucket and wringing the excess water out. As she passed Ignis, on her way to wipe down some tables before another rush of corporate bigshots made a mess of them again, she tilted her head and smiled. “And what about you, hm? When are you going to stop busying yourself here all the time and find yourself someone to be with?”

“Pardon?” Ignis quipped, already not liking where she was going with this.

“If you set Noctis up to have a friend, then who will _you_ look after? You can’t _possibly_ spend your entire life here in this café while the world passes you by. That’s no way to live.”

He snorted. “I’m perfectly content with where I am right now, thank you very much.”

Ignis’ words were strained, like maybe he was convincing _himself_ more than he was trying to convince Luna that, yup, he was content. Happy. Never better. Nothing could rain on his parade. He didn’t need _anyone else_ besides this coffee shop, Noctis, his employees, and his Ebony coffee. But, seriously, it was a façade. He was only fooling himself. Aggravation tugged at his insides and Ignis resisted the urge to ball his hands into tight fists.

“Understood, Ignis, but you always look so sad these days, like you’re just trying to get through the day . . . that’s all. Please don’t mistake my words as a slight at you. We all just worry about your well-being more.”

That was the end of _that_. Luna, always so serene and peaceful, acquiesced and smiled, but it was such a pitiful smile. One that Ignis had seen thrown his way more time than he could count. But what no one knew was that he _did_ have someone. Someone he had once loved very much. Someone he thought would be by his side forever . . . but he royally fucked it up.

That someone’s name was Gladiolus Amicitia.

And Ignis missed him dearly.


	2. Built to Fall Apart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's find out what happened between Gladio and Ignis, shall we? :)

They found each other again by mere happenstance.

For whatever reason, Ignis decided to use the Spring Break week off from his classes at Insomnia University to sit in a cabana on the beach at the Galdin Quay resort. Of course, Ignis realized how bad of an idea this was when he finally arrived, pulling his duffle bag out from the trunk of his car and striding along the wooden dock to the check-in stand. There was a line about twelve people deep, all students from the same University and all completely sloshed on sugar-laden cocktails and piss-colored beers. At the front of said line, some guy was making a scene about his room not being ready, despite being told five minutes ago that he hadn’t even made a reservation at the resort.

Well, there was no point in waiting around in this chaos, so Ignis hoisted the strap of his bag higher on his shoulder and walked away, fishing around in a side pocket for a book. What Ignis _really_ wanted to do was work ahead on some schoolwork, write more of his paper, but even a few of his professors kindly asked that he use this break as a way to decompress, lest he suffer a brain aneurysm at the tender age of 19.

Normally, Ignis wasn’t the type to frequent the beach, so his attire was less than suitable for walking on the sand at high noon. He’d hoped he would’ve been able to get into his room to change, but that wasn’t going to happen right now. So, in his red-soled shoes, his black denim jeans, and a pressed courel-print shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, Ignis found an open plastic table half in the shade, perfect for the time being while the line at the check-in stand cleared out.

Setting his bag in the chair across from him and moving his own uncomfortable seat more in the shade so he could prolong the inevitable of sweating through his shirt, Ignis cracked open his book and found where he last left off with the help of the bookmark. Soon, he lost himself again in the story of a brooding prince, traveling the world with his three best friends as they saved the world from a fashionably-debonaire villain. It was the next installment in a series of books he loved to read—a series that jumped around from blond-haired heroes with giant swords to accented sky-pirates—but it took ten years to finally come out. That being said, he still enjoyed it and found himself rereading it for the third time this year.

Time passed, and the sun shifted across the pale blue sky—shadows and the comfortable shade moving with it. When several beads of sweat dripped down his temple, Ignis wiped at it with the back of his hand and blinked, his attention coming back to reality. He wasn’t traversing the lands of foreign countries anymore—instead he was back to sitting in the heat of the sun on the beach.

Ignis sighed and moved to observe the scene around him. He wasn’t sure what time it was, and it was possible that he could go check-in now, but he was feeling lazy from the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore and the warmth of the spring weather. Someone was readying their fishing pole with bait so they could snag a fish over by the rocks. A man and a woman walked hand in hand on the shoreline, her shoes dangling from her curled fingers.

Then, Ignis fixed his stare on a rather muscular and tanned man catching a wave as it roared in. His tattoo, covering the expanse of his entire back, glistened from the water and rays of the sun. A few twists on his board, an aerial flip, and then he was gone, lost under the surface of the ocean. There was a brief moment where Ignis thought to panic and call for help, but the man was coming up for air before anything else happened, his dark hair slicked into a high ponytail on his head.

He scrambled for his board and kicked inland, not a far swim at all from where he was. Ignis watched from a distance as the man trudged from the ocean onto the shore, admiring his muscles, the long scar that ran down the length of his left eye, the tight board shorts he wore and how they clung to every inch of him just right, almost borderline indecent if Ignis did say so himself.

“Hey, you! Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

Ignis flinched, obviously caught in the midst of gawking this total—but no less, attractive—stranger. He sat up and placed the book he was reading in his lap, mind racing with a million different excuses as to why he was being such a creeper right now. It wasn’t a _crime_ to look at someone in Galdin, was it? No. No, it wasn’t.

So, before Ignis could open his mouth and spew some irrational nonsense, he felt all thought leave his normally-conscientious mind at the sight of this man flashing the most _dazzling_ smile he’d thought he’d ever seen.

Oh. He was kidding.

But now he was walking over and Ignis wasn’t sure what it was he wanted. Dammit, he just wanted a quiet moment on the beach, not to make friends with an incredibly hot surfer/hipster guy. The weird thing was that this man walked with a purpose, like he had a thing or two to say to Ignis, his surf board tucked under his massive arms. When he was only several feet away, he stuck the board in the sand and placed a hand on his hip. “Did you like the show?”

_Cocky smartass._

Ignis cleared his throat and his lips pressed together. “Pardon me for merely being worried about a man who appeared to have fallen head first into the water, and so close to the shoreline, no less. By the looks of it, it was the perfect recipe for a disaster.”

The man smirked. “Nice save, but I know an admirer when I see one, especially one as gorgeous as you.”

Now, normally Ignis was a sensible man. His practicality and level-headedness stemmed from a strict and stern childhood, carried on into his teens, and far into adulthood. Throughout his life, Ignis took it as a compliment that people thought he was far older than he _really_ was. But, looking into the amber-eyes of this man, standing before him now, Ignis was suddenly bombarded with impious thoughts, not one of them remotely rational or prudent like he was used to.

“So, does my admirer have a name, or should I just keep referring to you as ‘Gorgeous’?”

Ignis raised an eyebrow. “Do you use that line on everyone?”

“Nah, I just reserve it for people I really like.”

“Lucky me,” Ignis retorted while holding out a hand. “Ignis Scientia.”

The look that came from the man towering above him at the introduction of his name was priceless. “Wait . . . Ignis Scientia? The gangly kid from elementary school who was always teacher’s pet??”

“I’m sorry, do I know you?”

The man laughed a loud and cheerful guffaw of a sound. “Dude, I’m sorry, but I can’t believe I didn’t make the connection until just now! We . . . ah, shit! Iggy, we were best friends way back in the day! It’s me, Gladio!”

Ignis took a second to register this and then it was like a lightbulb went off. Sizing up the guy in front of him, it was crazy that Ignis didn’t recognize him sooner.

Gladiolus Amicitia, or Gladio for short, was Ignis’ childhood best friend. They were friendly rivals, always vying to be the best in everything they did as kids. If Gladio could climb a tree, Ignis made sure to climb one higher. If Ignis drew a picture of a house, you better believe that Gladio was right there drawing one better. At the end of the day, though, one would find themselves at the other’s house, giggling about the books they read or sneaking downstairs at the Amicitia mansion to steal some food to bring back upstairs.

“My word, Gladio! I do apologize,” Ignis chuckled, standing up and embracing Gladio in a bro-type of hug, despite the fact that he was still dripping wet. “You’ve grown and changed these some-odd years. I must say that time has been very kind to you.”

A shade of pink tinged the larger man’s cheeks and he kicked bashfully at the sand between them. “Ahh, don’t be ridiculous, Iggy. I could definitely say the same for you. You look . . . you look good. Glad to see you did away with those oversized glasses of yours.”

The backhanded compliment went unacknowledged. “And you grew your hair out. It suits you well.”

Gladio brushed an errant strand of hair that had come loose from his ponytail and shrugged. “Yeah, well, when your dad ships you off to Niflheim to attend their military academy and they spend the next however many years buzzing your hair, sometimes you just want to keep it long as a giant middle finger to everyone.”

Now his curiosity was piqued. “Military academy?”

Gladio made a face. “Heh, yeah. The short story is that dad said I needed to shape up, so he shipped me off. Thought it would do me some good or something. You know how I was as a kid.”

Ignis crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back a bit, amused. “Well, that explains your sudden absence. Here I was calling up your residence and your butler tells me you’re unable to make it to the phone.”

“Ah, you know I would’ve called you if I could’ve to let you know what was going on. I wouldn’t have left you hangin’ like that.” He stopped and looked over his shoulder as if he was searching for someone in the distance. When he turned back, he was smiling that same grin that almost left Ignis tongue-tied. “Listen, I’m supposed to be meeting up with some friends soon, but I was hoping we can catch up for dinner? Maybe around 7? We can grab a bite at the small seafood place in the middle of the resort. I’d like to hear what all you’ve been up to the last several years.”

Ignis returned the warm smile. “Dinner at 7 would be great.”

* * *

 

Entering the resort’s restaurant that night and finding Gladio sitting there, silky black hair cascading passed his shoulders and amber eyes catching his across the room, caused the very breath to leave Ignis' lungs.

The larger man waved and grinned, beckoning Ignis to come take a seat across from him. The entire time, there wasn’t a single lull in their conversation, but whether that was due to the alcohol they were drinking, or just the fact that their chemistry was undeniable remained to be seen. The banter and chit-chat drifted effortlessly and, several times, Ignis found himself doubled over with laughter, tears pricking the corners of his eyes at some story Gladio told, or a joke he made, or a number of things he did.

They exchanged stories of their teenage years and their early adult lives; Ignis chatting of how close he was to finishing his degree and the possibility of obtaining his Master’s after, while Gladio talked about his work as a bartender at Bahamut’s Brewery—a bar known for its strong drinks and vibrant ambiance.

 When they finished dinner, they moved from the dining room over to the bar and ordered a few more drinks. It was Gladio that made the first move, his hand finding its way on Ignis’ knee in a bold gesture. “I really missed you, Iggy.”

 His heart thudded almost painfully in his chest and he realized he’d been quick to put his own hand on top of Gladio’s, thumb stroking back and forth. “Likewise, Gladio. Likewise.”

 If anyone asked, Ignis wouldn’t know who it was that suggested they take this back to Gladio’s room, but alas, that’s where they stumbled after hastily paying their tab. He remembered they giggled and played with clothing and tumbled over the threshold into the plush room.

The alcohol, atmosphere, and attraction for Gladio went straight to Ignis’ head as he found himself pressing the behemoth of a man against the glass door that led out to the balcony, unbuttoning his pants and reaching in to stroke him. The amount of precome leaking from the tip of Gladio’s cock made Ignis thirsty with desire. “My, someone has been _quite_ impatient,” he growled, interlacing his fingers with Gladio’s high against the glass.

“Can’t help it you’re so fucking hot,” he heard Gladio mumble in return, punctuated by a few gasps.

Gladio’s pants were becoming a hindrance and Ignis’ wrist and arm was starting to hurt from the awkward angle, so he withdrew and yanked the pants and underwear down so Gladio could kick out of them. A few intoxicated stumbles back and Ignis found himself on top of Gladio in the fancy hotel-room bed, placing sloppy kisses wherever he could while reaching down to wriggle his way out of his own trousers and then his underwear.

The lack of grace that Ignis was showing in this entire process should’ve embarrassed him, but it didn’t. Soon, he was back on top of Gladio, grinding and gyrating incessantly against him while moaning desperately at the intimate contact of skin-on-skin. “Forgive me for being so forward,” Ignis started, biting Gladio’s earlobe, “but would you possibly have the necessary . . . erm . . . items for—”

Gladio didn’t wait for Ignis to finish that sentence before he responded; or, actually, before he threw Ignis from atop of him and all but _dumped_ the entire contents of his bag on the floor at the foot of the bed, searching for what Ignis was implying. When he found the packet of lube and a condom, he tossed both into the waiting hands of Ignis and hopped back in bed, guiding Ignis back on top of him. “Now, where were we?”

“I was about to ask you the same question.”

He kissed Ignis’ collarbone and sharp jawline. “I think you were about to show me how you really _are_ great at everything you do, like you said at the bar, you arrogant son-of-a-bitch.”

Ignis let a lazy smirk pull at the corners of his lips and he patted Gladio on the side of his thigh enough for the larger man to take a hint to roll onto his stomach. He squeezed some lube from the packet, coating the tips of his fingers in the cool gel and running his other hand down the entire length of Gladio’s spine, pleased at the goosebumps he drew to the surface of his skin. Circling his entrance, Ignis hovered over him and bit possessively at the muscle on his shoulder. He all but chuckled as Gladio shifted, backing up to try and get Ignis to hurry the fuck up. “You’re incorrigible . . . the least you could do is let me tease you a bit. Tell me, are you always this quick to skip over foreplay and right into action?”

“Only when I know what it is that I— _ohhhh_.”

Gladio wanted to finish that sentence, but Ignis inserted a finger, finding there was little resistance and basking in the sounds that the man was making under him. “You were saying?”

When all he received were muffled moans from a face now buried in a pillow, Ignis nodded his satisfaction and quickly added a second finger, crooking and searching for the spot that he knew would _hopefully_ drive Gladio insane. It took a moment, working to also stretch Gladio to accommodate him, adding an additional third finger in the process. Having this sort of power over him made Ignis feel good, more and more as Gladio writhed and mewled incessantly.

“Please . . . please, I’m ready. Don’t make . . . please, don’t make me . . . _fuck_!”

“I was getting to that in just one moment if you would wait,” he teased upon hearing the vulgar word. “Wouldn’t want to have you too sore because we didn’t prepare you enough, would we?”

“At this point, I really don’t give a—” He faded off into a chorus of cries to the gods above and repetition of the word ‘fuck’, over and over and over again.

Listening to Gladio _beg_ for relief sent a jolt directly to his own cock, but he fought the urge to touch himself, wanting the first contact to be with him entering Gladio. This was all so thrilling and exciting as he stayed high on lust and a little intoxicated on too many drinks. Those emotions drove Ignis to pull his fingers out, wiping them on the comforter of the bed and move to grasp at a handful of Gladio’s hair, pulling him back and up onto all fours—not hard, but enough to draw another whining sound from the man’s mouth. “You think you’re ready now?”

Gladio couldn’t even speak, only able to nod a terse ‘yes’, exactly what Ignis wanted to see. He reached to the side and grabbed the condom that had been previously tossed to him, nearly forgotten in their haste to get things going between them. Unwrapping it and rolling it onto his dick, Ignis positioned himself and leaned down for another nibble at Gladio’s earlobe, licking up the shell of his ear. He wanted to make Gladio feel good. Great. _Amazing_.

And that’s exactly what he did as he tantalizingly pushed inside, passed the ring of muscle until he bottomed out, the dull nails of his fingers digging and bruising Gladio’s hips. For a second, Ignis allowed himself to lose control, moaning with his head tipped back and eyes shut. The air in the room was sticky with humidity from the beach weather and already smelled of sex and faintly of alcohol. Frankly, the whole scenario should’ve made Ignis feel _wrong_ , like he was imbibing in something he shouldn’t, but the way Gladio felt around him and the way he said his name filled him with an inexplicable joy.

He filled Gladio completely, pausing only to bask in how nice it felt. When he realized Gladio was starting to rock forward, urging Ignis wordlessly, he tutted a disapproving click of his tongue. “What seems to be the issue?”

“Could you just _fuck me_ already?”

He leered down on him, purring. “If that’s what you wanted, all you had to do was ask.”

“You’re lucky you’re so hot,” he ground out, teeth clenched together as he tried to keep some semblance of his composure, but he wasn’t fooling Ignis. Still, he considered the fact that _maybe_ he’d made Gladio suffer long enough and he finally started a slow and steady pace, taking his hand and running a single finger down the length of Gladio’s spine.

 “You like that?” Ignis goaded, slowing down to savor this moment. “You like when I fuck you slow? You like feeling every inch of my cock inside you? Hm?”

He thought that Gladio made a sound to convey his pleasure but, frankly, the slapping of skin and the roaring of blood in his ears made it hard to hear anything at all. With a small kiss to the nape of Gladio’s neck, the salty taste of perspiration on his lips and smelling the sweet, citrusy scent of his shampoo, he resumed what he was doing before, and that was slowly bringing Gladio to orgasm.

It was weird how they’d been practically strangers this morning, only having the memories of their childhood to go on, and yet Ignis felt like they’d known each other a lifetime. In the midst of fucking him, Ignis couldn’t help the fact that his mind wandered to hoping this wouldn’t be the last time for them. He wanted to do this again, but maybe with a little more emotion. A different build-up, perhaps, one filled with the desire to express more than carnal passion. He wanted to worship every inch of Gladio’s body with his mouth, show him that they possibly had something deeper together. Something _real_.

But all that mushy, lovey-dovey shit was brushed aside the second Gladio called out Ignis’ name again, falling forward so he was now resting on his forearms instead of holding himself up on his hands and knees. The angle did _something_ because he was tensing up every time Ignis thrust inside of him, his pleading to the gods and to Ignis and to everyone within earshot of their room now much sharper and louder.

“Touch yourself, Gladio,” he commanded, another rocking of his hips forward to hit that spot that would surely extract a loud cry from him. With a shaking hand and after a moment’s delirium, trying to work through what it was that Ignis had just asked of him, Gladio reached down and stroked himself in time to Ignis’ thrusts.

He must’ve been worked up far more than Ignis realized because it didn’t take much longer for Gladio to come, sobbing and screaming into his pillow as he spilled himself on the comforter under them. Ignis soon followed, his fingers scrabbling for a better grip on the man’s hips as he buried himself deep inside Glado, his cock twitching as he came and vulgar words and phrases hissed through gritted teeth.

Soon, all that could be heard between the two were the heaving gasps as they attempted to catch their breaths, neither one wanting to make the first move. Eventually, Ignis pulled out and winced at the pain of overstimulation, slow and careful to inch his way off the bed to the bathroom. He made a mental note to call the front desk for Gladio so that he could have fresh sheets before he left. How _disgusting_ would it be to fall asleep in sheets that were dirtied with spend and sweat?

Besides, after the most amazing sex he’d had in a long time, it was the least he could do.

The heavy padding of Gladio’s footsteps across the bedroom floor grabbed Ignis’ attention as he discarded the used condom and grabbed a towel. Gladio leaned against the doorframe of the bathroom, arms crossed and eyes twinkling as he studied Ignis. “You know . . . you can stay the night here in my room . . . if you want. You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to.”

Ignis blinked, the towel still in his hand and the faucet running as he’d only turned it on moments ago. It was then that all those thoughts he had while inside Gladio—all the romanticized idealizations of a possible future—came rushing back. Heat and color flooded his cheeks and he finally found his voice. Gladio waited for an answer, obviously worried he was going to say no, judging by the wavering, lopsided smile and the way his eyebrows drew together, creasing his forehead.

“I would like that very much.”

The relief was apparent and Gladio seemed to let go of the breath he was holding, taking a few large strides to stand in front of Ignis, holding out a hand to gently grab him under the elbow. Ignis was captivated by Gladio and he smiled as he was pulled into a soft, chaste kiss.

And in that moment, Ignis forgot all about calling the front desk for those new sheets.

 

* * *

 

 

They moved in with each other only two months later. Ignis nonchalantly handed Gladio his spare apartment key, making some lame excuse about how exhausting it must be for Gladio to have to drive all the way back home every night to get ready for work when Bahamut’s Brewery was literally just up the road from Ignis’ flat. “You’re more than welcome to leave some stuff here, should you find that to be easier on you. It’s not like I don’t have the room in my drawers and you’re here more than you’re away anyway.”

It really was that simple. They cohabitated well—moving in together was never an issue like a lot of people made it seem. In fact, it was those little moments of domestic bliss that Ignis lived for. The nights that Gladio would come home after a long shift at the bar, crawling into bed and cuddling Ignis, whispering, “I love you.” Stealing glances at each other as they sat across the room, Ignis finishing up the last of his college schoolwork while Gladio lost himself in yet another book.

On nights where they were both free, they would cook dinner—well, more like Ignis cooked and Gladio watched with a glass of wine in hand—and listen to music. Eventually, it became their thing, Gladio pulling Ignis away from the stove and slow dancing with him right there in the middle of the kitchen. The first few times he did this, Ignis would try to writhe away, but Gladio would hold him close until he gave up and fell into the dance with him, both swaying in time to the song and forgetting about the food as it burned in the pan.

There was nothing in those moments that could make Ignis even _consider_ the notion of a life without Gladio. Their love was indestructible.

 

* * *

 

 

Once Ignis graduated and after some months of having a hard time with job-hunting, it was Gladio who nudged him in the direction of buying a coffee shop.  All those late nights in the library and his affinity for caffeine drove Ignis to craft the perfect espressos, lattes, cappuccinos, cold brews, and everything in between.

One lazy morning, a cup of coffee in one hand and his book in the other, Gladio gave an esteemed hum after another long sip from his mug. “Why don’t you open your own shop, Iggy?” Gladio asked nonchalantly, eyes flicking up from the book he was reading on the couch. His large legs were extended over Ignis’ lap and Ignis scrunched his face when asked the question, confused.

“Where’s _this_ coming from?”

“I dunno, something I’ve been sitting on for a while. Coffee’s kinda your thing, you know? Plus, you’re done with your degree, nobody’s really hiring for what you deserve to be paid . . . what better time than now?”

“Oh, Gladio,” Ignis sighed, removing the glasses from the bridge of his nose with exasperation. “I don’t think you understand just how much labor and exertion goes into opening a business, especially one from the ground up. There’s more to consider than just where you’re going to set up shop and how many customers will wander their way through your doors. Where am I going to get the funding to start? Who will help me? What about all that talk about me getting my Masters?”

“Excuses, excuses.” With a shrug and a smirk, Gladio snapped his book closed and kicked his legs off of his lover’s lap, inching closer so that their noses barely touched. “If anyone can do it,” he whispered, breath ghosting over Ignis’ parted lips, “it’s you.”

A quick kiss and Gladio was up and walking away, satisfied with himself as Ignis considered his suggestion.

If only they knew the train of events that seemingly insignificant comment of his set into motion and the consequences that would result.

 

* * *

 

 

 After a long conversation with Regis, complete with signing some bank paperwork and a lot of back and forth, Ignis was loaned the gil he’d need to open Stella’s.

It didn’t take long to find a place that suited Ignis’ needs and Gladio was right there to support him however he could. They painted, redid the flooring, installed all new appliances, and once they even made love behind the counter where the register would end up. They were optimistic and naïve, looking at the opening of the shop through rose-colored glasses.

Soon, Stella’s drove a very large wedge between the two.

Days dragged into weeks where Ignis and Gladio saw very little of each other anymore. They were almost like paper airplanes in the wind, drifting by each other in hurried ‘hellos’ and ‘goodbyes’. When Ignis _was_ home, he was busy looking over financial statements he’d put together, organized to a fault. Several times, Gladio would come up behind him as he sat at the dining room table and attempt to massage his tense shoulders, practically hiked up to his ears from all the stress and anxiety he was putting on himself. “Knock it off, Gladio! I’m busy!” Ignis would snap, flicking his boyfriend’s hand away.

“Sorry, I was just trying to help.”

“You want to help? You could start by not trying to knead me to death. Take your masseuse skills elsewhere. I need to get these numbers figured out, on top of the other daily tasks I haven’t gotten around to today,” he hissed, hunching forward to examine more tables and charts. Study more business strategies. Read of possible competitors (though _no one_ could compete with Ignis Scientia and Stella’s). Do everything else but pay attention to the man standing dejected behind him.

“Sure thing,” Gladio mumbled before sauntering away, picking up the book from the coffee table and settling on the couch to get some light reading in.

Eventually, that became their new norm. On the days when customers were pleasant and the coffee was flowing, Ignis was tolerable at home. It was when he’d have _problematic customers_ , broken machines, stained and dirtied clothes, and longer than normal hours that Ignis came home in a foul mood, worse than his usual sour disposition as of late.  

He never noticed the eyerolls behind his back. The scowling. The way that Gladio tensed up when Ignis opened his mouth, preparing himself for another long and winded rant. “If you’re unhappy, then maybe it’s time to sell the damn thing,” Gladio snarled, pulling his hair back into a bun for another long night at the bar.

“Don’t be ludicrous. This is all par for the course when it comes to opening a new place like this. The growing pains will subside and things will get easier.”

“Whatever. That’s what you _always_ say.”

Still, Ignis persevered and the coffee shop consistently outdid itself in sales and performance. Truly, Ignis couldn’t be prouder of his accomplishments and he figured Gladio would eventually come around and learn that this was just how things would be. Their relationship had always been strong. This? This was _nothing_. Things were good. They were fine.

Right?

Apparently not, because Gladio called him up one day, all the love and warmth of his voice gone. Ignis knew something wasn’t right. As he was cleaning up and shutting down the shop, having sent Noct home for the evening to do whatever it was that Noct did, he tentatively invited Gladio up to talk, but the dread had already begun to turn his blood to ice in his veins. He hadn’t eaten a single thing that day, lack of time being the reason, and yet he wanted to run to the toilet and throw up.

Sure enough, Gladio came by and everything started to unravel. Sitting across from each other, Ignis with his coffee mug in front of him while Gladio wrung his hands in his lap, unable to make eye contact, Gladio mumbled the words, “This is getting really hard and . . . I . . . I think I need a break.”

Ignis tried, and failed, to come up with words to make everything better. In fact, there were a number of things he screamed in his head, words that never made it to his lips.

_I’ll hire someone else to help run things._

_Things will get better._

_I’ll make time._

_I love you._

_Please, don’t leave._

Instead, Ignis made himself look like the biggest asshole in the world by shrugging unempathetically and reaching for his mug, bringing it coldly to his mouth. “If that’s what you want, then I guess I can’t stop you.”

The hurt in Gladio’s eyes was painful to witness. Ignis knew Gladio was hoping, _praying_ , that Ignis would stop him.

“Well . . . no . . . it’s not what I _want_ , but it just seems like . . .” He put both elbows on the table and buried his face in his hands, trying to choose his next words carefully. The clock on the wall ticked the seconds so loud that Ignis wanted to chuck his mug at it to silence it. He waited for exactly thirty-seven seconds before Gladio continued. “I feel like you’re always _here_. I never see you anymore, Iggy. When you _are_ home, you’ve locked yourself away in the second bedroom to look at fucking financials or whatever other bullshit you do.”

Even though Gladio was right, it still stung. Ignis could recall Gladio asking him many times to come to bed with him. He’d turned down offers week after week after week to go out to dinner, to go to the movies, or to just get away on a weekend vacation to Galdin or Lestallum or Altissia or a number of other destinations.

Knowing all of this, though, didn’t stop Ignis from feeling like this was all getting thrown on him so suddenly. It wasn’t fair, but Ignis was tired and cranky and he didn’t want to deal with this tonight. “How else do you expect me to turn a profit, Gladiolus?” he clipped, using Gladio’s full name because he was in the mood to be petty right now. He wanted him to hurt just like he was hurting right now. “ _Someone_ needs to ensure that our overhead costs aren’t overshadowing our revenues. What, do you honestly expect me to put that sort of responsibility on _Noctis_? How foolish of you. This is _my_ café and, therefore, _my_ responsibility.”

“Yeah, but your responsibility is bleeding into our relationship. Can you even tell me the last time we had sex, Ignis? The last time you kissed me because you wanted to and not because I asked for one?”

“Of _course,_ you want to put the blame all on me for this downward spiral of our relationship.” Ignis sat up straighter in his chair, scowling, “Some of us have _actual_ work to tend to and can’t spend our lives galivanting around behind a bar, making drinks and pretending we’re actually _doing_ something with our lives.”

Palpable agony on Gladio’s face contorted into a melancholic rage. “Well, _fuck me_ for trying to earn some extra money while you come here and play barista.”

“ _Play??_ This is my _dream_! I worked my ass off for this!”

“Your dream? _Your dream?!_ Ignis, you wouldn’t have even _had_ this dream if it wasn’t for me suggesting it, so don’t fucking act like you’ve had these lavish and grandiose plans to run a coffee shop your entire life when it was really _my_ idea in the first place! You’re so deep in this place, you can’t even see to the next day without fucking worrying about what you need to do here. It’s _exhausting_!”

 Ignis had enough. He slammed his mug down and stood up, storming to the door and unlocking it. “I think it’s best that you leave now, Gladiolus. I have to finish closing up and I’ve yet to count the till. If you are set on this separation, then please make sure your belongings are gone from _my_ place,” emphasizing the fact that the apartment was his, “and your key is on the counter before I get home.”

The color drained from Gladio’s face and he swallowed thickly, his knuckles white as he gripped the back of his chair. He’d hurt Gladio to the core, but he didn’t care; this was all Gladio’s fault for bringing it up in the first place. With a shaking breath and weak legs, Gladio slowly got to his feet and practically dragged himself to the door. In the light from the streetlamp outside, Ignis saw for the first time how _tired_ his boyfriend looked and how _done_ he seemed with everything. He’d given up.

Before he left, he stared down at Ignis’ stone-cold face and shook his head. “I had a ring, you know.”

And with those words, Gladio gripped the outside doorknob and pulled the door shut behind him, leaving a very stunned Ignis alone in his place, those last words haunting him.

Getting things cleaned up and shut down after that was quite the chore, Ignis moving at a pace that could rival that of an adamantoise. His head throbbed in time with every pounding beat of his heart. Other than that, he just felt numb and forced himself to get through the rest of the closing checklist.

When he got home that night, just as demanded, Gladio had removed a majority of his possessions from their places around the apartment, save for a few larger items like a recliner he brought in from when he lived alone and the television he begged Ignis for, mounted on the wall in the living room. Other than that, the only thing left of him was a single key to the front door, slapped on the counter and the stale, empty void of loneliness, brought on by Gladio’s departure, that Ignis didn’t think would break his heart this much.

It was over.

And suddenly, Stella's success didn't seem like it was worth it, anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Eeeeeep!! This was fun to write! I didn't expect for it to get this long, so I'm sorry about that! 
> 
> I hope you liked it. If you did, please come scream with me on Tumblr or Twitter! Same name as here. 
> 
> As always, kudos and comments mean the world to me and moonside so KEEP THEM COMING <3 <3


	3. Couldn't Quite Forget

The alarm on Ignis’ phone sang an annoying tune, something that would wake even the heaviest of sleepers. Not Ignis, though; he stood in the kitchen with the phone in one hand and a half-empty cup of coffee in the other, silencing the nuisance of an alarm with a thumb to the red ‘END’ button. As much as Ignis would’ve like to have said that he was just waking up, this was his fourth mug of rich, black coffee, but he probably didn’t need it. Since his breakup with Gladio however long ago (seriously, the days and weeks and months blended together in one seamless montage of moments these days), Ignis found sleep hard to come by. He tried to blame his insomnia on the stress of owning Stella’s, his constant worry and fretting over Noctis, and anxiety in general, but at the core of everything, he knew he was suffering a broken heart.

At first, Ignis went on like nothing had changed. He didn’t need Gladio. This was all  _ his _ idea.  _ He  _ initiated the breakup—Ignis just finished it off. Throwing himself into his work made things a little easier for a minute and it was nice to not have to worry about someone waiting for him at home. Ignis could do whatever he wanted, work however long he needed, spend the money he needed to, and all without a single shred of guilty conscious. 

Then, the loneliness hovered over him like a thick blanket, unwilling to release him from its hold. He still dressed well and spiked his hair like normal, but the bags under his eyes and the dullness of his skin was a dead giveaway to anyone paying attention that Ignis was hurting. His smile became disingenuous, worn like a mask to get through the day. His laugh sounded hollow, even to his own ears. Food stopped tasting like anything and, if he ever  _ did _ manage to get any morsel of food in his mouth, it only served to nauseate him, sitting like lead in his stomach.  

Ignis would crawl into the bed that felt far too big without Gladio in it at the end of every day and would hook an arm under his pillow, hugging it close to him while praying for his mind to slow down long enough to let him drift away. Those wishful thoughts never did much for him—even when he did fall asleep, he’d eventually jolt awake less than an hour later from nightmares—nightmares that were always just replays of what could’ve been, should’ve been, and would’ve been had Ignis opened his goddamn mouth and stopped Gladio from leaving. Instead, he had to be a prick and let the love of his life walk out the door. 

Pathetic. Fucking pathetic.

The tossing and turning would continue throughout the night before he resigned himself to the fact that sleep just wasn’t in the cards for him, throwing the covers back and blearily stumbling through his quiet flat to find a distraction. Usually, that meant studying financials on his computer, ordering more inventory and supplies, making list after list after list of shit he needed to do, and mentally checking off everything he needed to do to ensure Noctis was cared for that day.

Looking after Noctis was a nasty habit that Ignis had come to develop throughout his life. He wasn’t exactly able to pinpoint the moment when he made it his life mission to take Noct under his wing, but Ignis didn’t mind it. In fact, he may’ve even dared to say it was a  _ hobby _ . They were cousins by blood, but brothers by choice. If Noctis wanted something, Ignis was there to guarantee that he got it. If Noctis was sad? Ignis did  _ whatever _ it took to get even the slightest hint of a smile on his face. Now that Ignis was single, he busied himself even more in taking care of him and parts of him wondered if that irritated the  _ shit _ out of the kid. Probably, but oh well. 

Speaking of Noctis, today he was the opener at Stella’s and he would be training Prompto on his very first day of work. Ignis had vaguely been in touch with Prompto since hiring him, only to tell him that the dress code was laid back to an extent and to be ready to work at 5 AM  _ sharp _ . Prompto assured him that he would do him one better and arrive early. 

Ignis could’ve cried at that. Anyone who arrived early for work, instead of merely ‘on time’, was a-ok in Ignis’ book.

Noctis  _ should _ be at the shop right about now. Ignis trusted Noct to show up and keep things running, at least until Iris got there at 6, but he still felt the need to shoot him a text. It took longer than Ignis was comfortable with to receive a text back—a terse message that he was in the café—and he was  _ sure _ that the little brat was cursing up a storm, but Ignis was cranky and drained and wasn’t in the mood for his antics right now. Yes, if Ignis had it his way, he would clone himself and run the entire coffee shop on his own and Noct would be free to do whatever he wanted. But, that’s not how life worked, and this was all for Noct’s own good. He needed to learn some goddamn responsibility if he was going to get anywhere in this world. 

With the knowledge that Noctis was setting everything up and things were ok, Ignis picked up the list he’d made the night before, each line punctuated with a single bullet point to show what he needed to do today. Pick up a coin order from the bank, run by Partial Nourishments—the very expensive and high-end organic grocery store known for its out-of-budget foods—to buy a few things to tie Stella’s over into their next shipment of inventory, and then stop by Stella’s to check in and see how things were going. He wouldn’t stay long, however, since Iris was working for a bulk of the day. He trusted Iris, even if seeing her lately made his heart hurt, his thoughts inevitably drifting back to Gladio. 

That being said, the fact that no one knew about Gladio and Ignis’ love life—at least, he didn’t think anyone knew . . . they’d kept their relationship pretty low key—made it all the more easy to waltz into work every day and pretend like everything was fine. No one questioned Ignis, probably chalking up his mood swings to the long hours, the lack of sleep from owning this place, or, maybe, because everyone just thought this was who he was—Pretentious Asshole Extraordinaire. 

With a sigh, Ignis downed the last bit of his coffee and placed the mug in the sink. The sky was still dark and would be for a little bit longer, but he couldn’t stand around in his kitchen any longer. It was time to begin his day.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis was in a bad mood. Again.

Well, ok, backing up . . . the day started out pleasant. After Ignis showered that morning and got ready, he set out to complete his to-do list. The bank order went through as it should’ve. His run to Partial Nourishments went well (even if he had to fight the urge to use that time to grab some vegetables for Noct. The kid really needed to up his veggie intake and Ignis was plotting a nefarious plan to sneak some into his meals.). When he finally showed up at Stella’s that afternoon, he was glad to see it hadn’t burnt down or anything in his absence. Nope, the lines were long, customers were happy, and the pastries were nearly gone.

Yes, everything was as it should’ve been.

He had gotten home from Stella’s that night, removing his scarf and winter coat and placing them on their respective hooks by the door (that cold front definitely came through with a vengeance that week). As he moved about his place, turning the heat up a degree or two higher and blowing into his hands to warm them up, he was pleased to ruminate the conversation he had with Iris earlier in the afternoon that Noct and Prompto got along well. More than well, actually; Iris was practically  _ buzzing _ with excitement about how in  _ love _ Noctis was. She went on and on and on—seriously, she wouldn’t shut. up. —about how  _ cute  _ they were together and that drew a laugh from Ignis. 

Though, if Ignis was honest, Iris had a flair for the dramatics and she loved to play up things for the sake of making them appear more thrilling and sensational. In Iris speak, Noctis being in love probably meant he was actually a functioning human being that morning. Still, it made Ignis smile to know that Noctis had made a friend, regardless.

In his back pocket, Ignis felt his phone vibrate to signal an incoming call. Without even looking at the screen, sure that whoever was calling was someone he didn’t mind hearing from, Ignis flicked the little phone icon up to answer. 

“Uh . . . hey, Iggy . . .  _ please don’t hang up _ !”

It was Gladio, voice gruff and awkward and hesitant.

Ignis’ heart skipped a tiny beat and he gulped, the floor tilting violently enough that he threw a hand up on the nearby wall to steady himself. Gladio was calling him.  _ Gladio was calling him. _ What was he calling for? What did he want? Did he miss Ignis? Was he calling to initiate a reconciliation? It’s strange how time apart from someone you love can make you feel like total strangers, yet everything can still feel familiar all the same.

Then, the bitterness returned, remembering that the last time they’d spoken was the end of their relationship, and Ignis didn’t want to hear what it was that Gladio had to say. Still, there had to be a good reason for him to call, so he reasoned it was best to hear him out. 

Moving from the wall into the living room to sit on the couch, Ignis could practically imagine the guy running his hand through his hair, a ball of nerves probably as he paced his apartment. There was a tense silence between them before Ignis clipped, “Yes, Gladiolus? What can I help you with?”

A long, heaving sigh. “Iris is a fucking mess right now, so I said I’d call for her. Basically, she needs to switch shifts tomorrow at Stella’s. Her cat . . . I don’t know, something about it not eating? Or it’s sleeping a lot? Iris has been really vague about what’s wrong, but she said it’s really sick. I’m gonna take it to the vet, but she wants to be there. I was hoping maybe it would be alright for her to come in a little later? Maybe switch her shift with someone else? You know how much she loves that damn cat.”

Ignis deflated a little, sagging into the couch. So, Gladio  _ wasn’t _ calling for anything more than as a middleman between Ignis and Iris.

It was weird how misdirected Ignis’ anger was the more Gladio talked. He should’ve been angry with Iris. Should’ve been annoyed that he had to shift around hours at the last minute to ensure there was coverage throughout the day. However, all he could think about was how fucking irritating Gladio’s voice was. Really, they hadn’t talked in gods know how long and this is how their first conversation was going to go? Discussing a fucking ill cat?  _ If that really was what was wrong. _ “Is this a hairbrained attempt to converse with me? Thought maybe using your own sister would be a great excuse to telephone me?”

“What are you talk—”

Ignis took his glasses off and tossed them on the coffee table in frustration before Gladio could finish his sentence. “I’m trying to run a  _ business _ here. It’s absolutely  _ disgusting _ that you would think that using your sister, an ailing cat, and your affinity to rush to her aid would get me to soften up to you.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, feeling the onset of a nasty headache start to settle in. “You are despicable, you know that?”

Gladio scoffed. “Seriously, Ignis?  _ Seriously _ ? You think so low of me that I would pull a stunt like that? Is  _ that _ where we’re at now? Un-fucking-believable. I never thought we’d be  _ that _ couple after a breakup.” He chuckled, but it bordered on a disbelieving snicker. “Gods, you’re such a prick when you’re holding a grudge. I figured maybe you’d be a little nicer these days, but I see some things will never change. You’re still an emotionless, uncaring, miserable workaholic.” Another pause, like Gladio was debating whether or not to just hang up the phone, but the audible sound of his teeth gritting together told Ignis he was trying his damnedest to be civil again. He took several seconds to compose himself before talking. “Iris needs me right now, so I’m going to be a good big brother and take her fucking cat to the vet. I’ll drop Iris off at Stella’s when we’re finished and I’m sure she’ll work overtime to make it up to you.”

Ok, so maybe Gladio was being truthful. Maybe he only had Iris’ best interests at heart. At the back of his mind, though, Ignis had the nagging suspicion that there was more to all of this on Iris’ end than either he or Gladio could see right now. Ignis opened his mouth, guilt gnawing ruthlessly at him as he tried to verbalize his apology.

Couldn’t Gladio see that this was hard for Ignis? That their being apart was a true test of his willpower, his own stubborn pride a hindrance to their reconciliation? Ignis didn’t want to admit he’d been in the wrong. That he probably should chase after Gladio and that it was becoming harder and harder to hold on to this stupid grudge of his.

Really, how had they even gotten to this point? They hated each other, when before they were so fucking in love that it would’ve made anyone jealous. Was this the price someone paid for being a workaholic? For owning a business and putting that first above all else? Ignis wanted to be successful, but all it did was cost him Gladio. 

Before Ignis could voice an apology, the line went dead. 

Gladio had hung up. He was obviously as fed up with Ignis as Ignis was with him.

As much as Ignis wanted to call back and ask for Gladio’s forgiveness, there was the more pressing issue of making sure that there was coverage tomorrow morning. Gladio would have to wait until later—although, maybe that was for the best because then Ignis could plan out exactly what it was that he would say to him. Gladio at least deserved that much.

Tapping his long, elegant fingers on the arm of the couch, Ignis resigned himself to the fact that he’d have to ask Noctis to, once again, open. How on  _ Eos _ would he get Noctis to open  _ again _ ? It was like pulling teeth trying to get him to do anything before noon. This would be absolute  _ torture _ .

He tried to figure out how to swing this in his favor. Bribery could work, right? Well, the kid liked . . . um . . . sandwiches? Breakfast? Anything without veggies? Yeah, Ignis would just pay for a breakfast sandwich or something. Plus . . . maybe with Prompto in tomorrow morning, Noctis would be more apt to open with him. 

Ignis pressed Noctis’ picture on his phone under ‘contacts’ to call him, waiting patiently for him to pick up. Finally, when he did, Ignis got straight to the point after the typical ‘hello’s’ and ‘how are you’s’.  No point in beating around the bush. 

“I  _ know _ it’s two morning shifts in a row, but Iris’ cat is sick, she’s very upset, Gladio’s taking it to the vet . . . you  _ know _ how soft he is for his sister—.” Ignis wasn’t lying; Gladio was absolute  _ mush _ when it came to Iris. He would’ve walked to the ends of Eos and back if it meant her happiness, much in the same way Ignis would do for Noctis. 

He waited with baited breath, readying himself for Noctis to throw a fit or something in true Noctis fashion. Instead, he managed to shock him with the most surprising of responses. “It’s fine,” he interrupted quickly. Almost  _ too _ quickly. Like he was  _ excited _ . “I’ll open, Specs. Whatever. Exhaustion is my constant state of existence, anyway.”

Ignis blinked, adjusting his phone so it was now pressed closer to his ear. He sat forward on the couch, wondering if maybe reception was bad or something. “Who is this? Surely, I’ve called the wrong number, because there is  _ no way _ Noctis Caelum would agree to an early shift without a fight. I was prepared to bribe you.”

There was a chuckle. The laughter was almost contagious because Ignis felt his spirits slightly lifted now. “You can totally still bribe me. I’m open to that.”

“Oh . . . I . . . I have a breakfast sandwich then . . . “

“Cool. Thanks, Iggy,” Noctis responded casually. He paused and then continued. “By the way . . . new kid. You should’ve warned me it was Prompto Argentum!”

_ Ah _ . So, they  _ did _ recognize each other. Ignis smirked and closed his eyes, used to hiding emotion in his voice. He waited a beat before answering. “Hmm . . . should that name mean something to me?”

“ _ Ignis _ , I swear. Don’t play dumb with me. I used to hang out with him all the time when I was little, remember?”

Of  _ course _ Ignis remembered; It was the whole reason Ignis hired him in the first place. He did this all for Noctis. He wanted to see that smile that Noctis once bore on his little, innocent face. That smile meant  _ everything _ to Ignis. He still had to be sly—after all, this was  _ Ignis _ . He had to maintain a bit of mystery. “Ahhh . . .  _ of course _ . You two were attached at the hip for a few years, weren’t you? There’s that photo in your father’s office of the two of you with those ridiculous flower crowns you made for each other . . .”

Noctis cut him off. “That photo is embarrassing!” A quiet pause, and then, “You should’ve told me.”

“Well, I didn’t  _ quite _ make the connection . . .” He steered the subject away now. “So, training him went well? Iris said he’s a natural, that the customers loved him. He’d told me he worked in a coffee shop in Gralea, so I figured it would be a good fit.”

Noctis, once again, was fast to react. Too fast. It quirked the corners of Ignis’ lips into a devious little smirk. “Yeah, opening with him was easy. He’s nice. Kinds . . . feels like we’re instantly friends again, y’know, after all these years?”

“Iris  _ may _ have mentioned that you two got along quite well . . .” Another calculated silence. “You open with him again tomorrow . . . that’s  _ right _ !”

“Yep, Ignis. Making me open up two days in a row with the new guy. You’re the worst.”

Ignis wondered if Noctis knew, or had a small inkling, as to what he did or what he intended to set in motion. The conversation went on for a few minutes longer as Ignis and Noctis caught up, a lighthearted back-and-forth on each other’s day before Noctis yawned and said he needed to head to sleep. If Ignis was asking him to open . . .  _ again _ . . . he’d need to rest up. They both said their ‘goodnights’ and hung up.

Even though it was late and Ignis was running on nothing more than a collective hour or two of sleep, he pulled his long legs up on the couch and curled up, flicking mindlessly through his phone. The day had been a rollercoaster of emotions, but at least Ignis could take solace in the fact that, between him and Noctis, at least  _ one  _ of them could be happy . . . or  _ happier _ , in the grand scheme of things.

Because, right now, it sure as fuck wouldn’t be Ignis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Everyone has been so nice and I don't know what to say other than thank you for your comments and kudos and everything!! 
> 
> Come scream with me about these lovebirds on Tumblr and Twitter. Same name as here! 
> 
> Of course, I'm always so incredibly thankful and grateful to have an amazing collab partner in Moonside <3 She's the best and working with her is such a fun ride! Make sure you read her side of things, too! It's fun and heartwarming and so full of fluff!!


	4. Just Wanna Tell You

He shouldn’t’ve been awake this late anymore.

 

Prompto was the model barista in the morning, working all by himself for the last few weeks now, despite Noctis’ protests that they work together (Ignis had to tell him that the shift was Prompto’s and, no matter how many excuses he came up with, Noctis would have to just deal with the afternoon and evening shifts as had been expected of him since the beginning of Stella’s). Noctis was, more or less, happier than he had been in years. He had employees he could trust to run things while he was away for a few hours, profits were up, and Ignis should’ve been able to relax just a little bit now.

 

But, instead, Ignis fell into a dull and mind-numbing routine at the end of every day. Watch the evening news, flip through his agenda for the next day, get in touch with Noctis — either via text or by phone call — and just touch base, brush his teeth, and then change into a pair of comfortable sweatpants before climbing into bed.

 

With how busy he was, it should’ve been no problem at all falling asleep. However, the last time Ignis spoke with Gladio echoed in his mind and, _fuck_ , he really missed him. He missed the way they would lay in bed on nights they both were home, Gladio reading while Ignis cuddled close as he fell asleep. Or, if they were _really_ feeling playful, a simple touch here would lead to a kiss there . . . a lick on this part of the body . . . dark marks sucked in hidden places . . . ok, that was enough of that.

 

Memories tugged at his heart and Ignis reached for his phone. He held it close, clicking and thumbing around until he reached the application that housed all of his photos — a literal timeline of pictures, dating back to the very beginning of their relationship.

 

Photo after photo flashed on the screen. One of them at dinner, drinks in hand. Another on the day Ignis bought Stella’s, both standing outside the door with the cheesiest grins on their faces. A blurred photo where Gladio kissed Ignis’ cheek at the very last minute, nearly knocking the phone from his hands. All of these pictures painted a picture of a couple, head over heels in love. Nothing seemed to signal rough waters ahead unless you noticed the larger gaps in between the times the pictures were taken. When Ignis got to the end of the camera roll, he realized that the picture was taken about two and a half months before they ended things.

It was one of his favorites of the two of them. He remembered the urge he felt to be spontaneously silly, holding the phone out and nudging Gladio to make a goofy face for the camera. They stuck their tongues out, scrunched their noses, and laughed as the camera froze this very rare moment in time for them, immortalized on Ignis’ phone.

 

They got in that one picture before Ignis received a phone call from one of the employees at Stella’s — something about the credit card machine being down — and Ignis dashed off the couch and out the door.

 

 _Two and a half months_.

 

If Ignis had known, maybe he would’ve stayed on the couch for a bit longer instead of running out the door the second anyone else called for his help. He should’ve thrown a middle finger in the air and yelled a loud ‘fuck it’ to the world. But _no_ , he had to prioritize Stella’s over Gladio, like always, despite Gladio’s silent pleas for Ignis to notice him, to pay attention to him, to love him.

 

How fucking insensitive of a man was he to ignore Gladio like that? To vent and rant and stress and put everything far above him?

 

_I had a ring, you know._

 

Those words and these pictures haunted Ignis as he lay in bed again for the umpteenth night in a row, torturing himself with bittersweet nostalgia. Gladio wanted the rest of their lives to begin, but Ignis had been so quick to throw it away.

 

No, enough was enough. He was so tired of being without his better half and he was ready to make things work. Many business owners could balance their work-lives with their personal lives, right? If Ignis wanted to truly be happy, he’d have to learn how to do just that. It would take some time and a lot of effort on both their parts to get back to where they were, but Ignis would do just about anything now to have Gladio back in his life.

 

Maybe after work this week, Ignis could invite Gladio up and they could talk over coffee. Figure out where the fuck things went wrong . . . only to throw their mugs off the table and passionately kiss — among other things — and makeup. Yeah, that sounded like a great idea.

 

Ignis settled into his bed and, even though sleep evaded him a little while longer, he at least was satisfied with what he had in mind and the possibility of Gladio back in his life again.

 

 

* * *

  
  
Except life has a funny way of throwing wrenches into even the best-laid plans.

 

Every day, Ignis swore he was going to call Gladio, and every day there were several reasons he couldn’t — Stella’s was too busy, Noct needed groceries and dinner, he’d lose his nerve and back out because he was worried Gladio would reject him . . . blah blah blah. The list went on and on.

 

Then, a storm of epic proportions blew through and Ignis realized he was going to be snowed in all night. Yet another day come and gone of not talking to Gladio. Cursing the Winter Storm Warning, the blustery wind, and the Ice Goddess herself, he called up Noct and told him to shut down the cafe early and urged him to get home as soon as possible. Hell, if Ignis could, he’d personally escort Noctis home and make sure he was safe and sound. Unfortunately, he’d have to just hope that he’d adhere to his wishes and go straight to his apartment . . . oh, Astrals, he hoped Noct would listen _just once_.  

 

When he’d finally worn himself out pacing the apartment back and forth, Ignis tried to force himself to go to bed. But, like it had been for weeks and months now, sleep was literally impossible for him. The hours passed at a slow and agonizing speed while the wind howled outside, keeping him awake all hours of the night. Finally, at what could be considered a reasonable hour to be up and about, before darkest of the night gave way to the hues of the sunrise, Ignis decided to get up and see how Stella’s fared.

 

Bundled up under several layers, and having walked from his flat since he didn’t live all that far away, Ignis stood on what he assumed was the sidewalk outside of Stella’s, arms crossed, scarf pulled up over his mouth, and his breath fogging his glasses with every shuddering exhale

 

How the _fuck_ would he get all this snow shoveled in time to have a _chance_ at opening today, even for an hour? Or two? It would take a fucking miracle — or a drastic temperature change . . . whichever was more likely.

 

As he scanned the building, his eyes stopped at the side parking lot. Fear gripped his chest and he froze. The parking lot should’ve been empty, but there, still parked — or buried, as that would’ve been a more accurate description of the state of the vehicle right now — was Noctis’ car.  Hadn’t Ignis told him to go home?? Why was his car still here? Why couldn’t he listen just . . . oh, wait.

 

Then, he remembered that there was the likely chance that Prompto had come by yesterday afternoon to keep Noctis company while on the job. When Ignis hired Prompto on, he hoped that they would become friends, but he never imagined that they would be inseparable this fast. _Everyone_ saw the possibility of more in their friendship . . . everyone, that was, except Prompto and Noctis. In fact, Ignis came behind the counter one afternoon recently and interrupted the quiet chatter between Iris and Luna.

 

“Surely there’s something you two could be doing other than gossiping about those ridiculous relationship boards on that one website you two stalk. What’s the site? Bluedit? Greendit?” he said.

 

“Oh, Ignis,” Luna smiled up at Ignis, no doubt under the influence _again_ on the job. The girl was great at what she did and everyone adored her, but Ignis _really_ wished she’d cut back on the alcohol a little bit. Truth be told, he never actually saw her put alcohol in her cup of coffee, but she was sneaky like that. “We’re just taking bets on when Noctis and Prompto will officially start dating.”

 

Ignis arched an eyebrow. “Elaborate.”

 

Iris giggled and hesitated for barely half a second before producing a piece of paper from behind her back. On it was a list of names, various dates, and the amount of gil each person decided to bet, in hopes that Noctis and Prompto would confess their love for each other . It was a fairly lengthy list with all of Stella’s employees — and even some repeat customers — participating. Before Ignis could take the paper in his hands and examine it closer, Iris pulled it away and stuck her tongue out. “Nope, no cheating! You’re either in or out. If you’re in, hand over the money and tell us the date you choose. You’re not allowed to look at the sheet without putting in your guess first!”

 

Everyone seemed to know that Noctis and Prompto were close. Closer than close. _Too_ close. That was what made Ignis smirk when he stood in front of Stella’s and noticed Noctis’ car buried under the snow, still in the parking lot. _Everyone_ knew except those two dumb idiots.

 

As he pulled his phone out, ready to dial Noctis’ to make sure that he really was with Prompto, a car drove around the corner, careful to not lose control. When Ignis looked over his shoulder, the sight of that car made his every thought stop. Even from this distance, Ignis could see the driver. Knew his mannerisms. Knew _him_. He pocketed his phone and waited.

 

Slowly, the car rolled to a stop, snow crunching under the tires. Ignis pivoted slightly, his heart pounding in his chest. Gladio stared back and gave a tentative smile and gripped his steering wheel a bit tighter. “Iris said you’d probably need help this morning. She knew you’d be too stubborn to call.”

 

Ignis fought the urge to roll his eyes. He hadn’t even spoken to Iris, but that girl was so meddlesome. Ignis knew Gladio had never come outright to her about their relationship, but she was smart and observant. She probably knew way more than either man gave her credit for. If that was the case, then it was no wonder she would nudge Gladio to help somehow. But . . . did that mean . . . did Gladio still . . . would he . . .  Could this be Ignis’ chance? “Oh.”

 

As the car ran and both men continued their staredown, Ignis pulled his scarf down off his mouth and, slowly, returned the smile. It was a soft smile, but Gladio took that as a yes and pulled the car off to the side of the road, popping his trunk in the process. Ignis kept his arms crossed, unsure what to do, but he eventually forced his feet to move as he walked to Gladio’s car. In the trunk were two shovels, a hairdryer, and some old camping gear not removed from over the summer. Seeing the tent, the rolled sleeping bag, and the empty cooler brought some bittersweet feelings of when they camped together before everything went to shit.

 

“Here,” Gladio said, thrusting one of the shovels into Ignis’ chest, waiting for him to grasp it before letting go and grabbing the second one. “I guess we should go ahead and get started. I saw the plows on my way over, but they’ve got a long way to go before they get here.”

 

Snowflakes dotted on Gladio’s dark hair, pulled back into a bun, and Ignis swore one landed right on his eyelashes. Would it be too awkward to kiss it away? Yeah, probably . . . but what was even more awkward was how they continued to stand there, staring at each other. Seriously, how long were they going to stand here like this? Not long, apparently, because Gladio slapped Ignis on the shoulder like they were longtime buddies or something and walked by, leaving deep prints in the snow as he did.

 

Ignis followed behind and they shoveled snow in silence. It was a nice change of pace, both of them working together instead of sniping and arguing. They started back to back, lulled into the rhythmic sound of shovels to snow, the crunch under their feet. When the sweat began to bead on their brows and down the backs of their necks, they’d pause to remove scarves, roll up their sleeves, and continue on. Ignis thought at one point he heard Gladio begin to say something, as if he was trying to start up a friendly conversation, but it must’ve been his imagination because when he turned to look, Gladio was farther away than he thought. He stared for a second longer, willing Gladio to turn around and meet his gaze, but the man was too far into shoveling the sidewalk to notice. Or care. For some reason, it saddened Ignis, and he eventually turned back around, pushed his glasses up further on his nose, and continued.

 

When they finished, sweat-soaked and out of breath, they met back in the middle. Gladio suggested they make their way inside to see if the plumbing was still in working order. “I’m not an expert or anything, but I mean . . . it can’t hurt to poke around and see, you know?”

 

“I suppose.”

 

Gladio went to grab the hairdryer from his trunk, just in case. As soon as they got inside, both separated again to test the various faucets and look at the pipes in the cafe. Nothing had burst, thank the Astrals, but Ignis’ elation was short lived when he realized that the pipes had frozen over. Turning on the faucets did nothing.

 

“Bloody hell,” he mumbled under his breath, loud enough to catch Gladio’s attention as he hunched over the sink. “Everything’s frozen.”

 

Gladio came up behind him and leaned in enough that Ignis could smell his deodorant, the hint of laundry done just that morning, and the shampoo that he said was always his favorite. Was it possible for Ignis’ heart to flutter and stop at the same time? For a pretty reasonable man, Ignis could be reduced to a puddle of mush in the presence of Gladio.  “Hmmm, yeah. You’re right. We’ll have to warm them up to get them working. Can’t exactly run a coffee shop without any water, right?”

 

When Gladio spoke, Ignis wanted to find more reasons to keep him talking, enamored by his voice, the way he enunciated words, and everything in between.

 

This whole thing should’ve stressed Ignis to the max, but having Gladio by his side, laughing, made things a little better. A lot better. For a moment, it was like old times. Ignis almost forgot that they weren’t even together anymore. He smiled his first genuine smile in what felt like ages and shrugged. “No, I suppose we can’t.” He paused, Noctis’ car another line on his neverending to-do list. “But, the car—”

 

Reading his mind, Gladio shrugged and reached for the hair-dryer. “Go ahead and call Noct. Tell him we’ll be by later to drop it off. We can’t really go anywhere right now, anyway. If you want any chance of opening at all today, we kinda need to get some of these pipes warmed up. Maybe when we’re done, the roads will be ok to drive on.”

 

“You seemed to drive just fine over here,” Ignis countered.

 

“Like I said, Iris thought maybe you’d need me. I couldn’t leave you hanging, even if we’re at odds and all.”

 

Ok, it wasn’t _exactly_ what Ignis wanted to hear, but he’d take it. Maybe Gladio was just feeling the situation out and didn’t want to spook Ignis. After all, how could they think to mend their broken relationship if they didn’t take things one step at a time?

 

 _Woah now_ , Ignis chided mentally. _Let’s not get too hasty. Don’t read too much into things. Gladio may’ve come here to help you, but that doesn’t mean he wants to get back together. Get it together!_

 

While Gladio got to work warming up the pipes with his hairdryer, Ignis stepped away to call Noctis. No answer. He tried again and still only managed to get his voice mail. After sighing dramatically, he dialed Prompto’s number and prayed that Noctis really _had_ gone back to his place.

 

  “Hey!” Prompto whispered when he answered his phone. The sound of a click told Ignis he must’ve stepped into another room, closing the door.

 

“Prompto, good morning. I hope you fared well through the storm?”

 

More shuffling around. “Yeah! We’re fine! Ah, sorry, I mean . . . Noct is here. He’s sleeping, but he still needs to get his winter tires on, so I invited him back.”

 

“Ah, exactly what I’ve been hounding him about for the last few weeks.” Ignis looked back over his shoulder and smiled to himself at the sight of Gladio warming the pipes, checking to see if water could come through every few minutes. “Please inform him Gladio and I will stop by momentarily to drop off his car. I’ll be opening up late today, so take care to stay safe and warm, ok?”

 

After receiving an affirmative answer, Prompto and Ignis hung up. He turned around right as Gladio whooped a victory yell, celebrating the fact that the pipes at at least two of the sinks were running just fine. “Finally! Hey, Iggy — “ Gladio spun around and stopped suddenly as he met Ignis’ smile.

 

Another round of silence, but Ignis held up his phone. “I finally got a hold of Prompto. Apparently, Noctis slept over at his flat last night. It’s not far from here, so I’ll drive the car over and walk back here when we're done . . . I can’t thank you enough for all your help this morning, Gladio. It was very much appreciated.”

 

Gladio busied himself by wrapping the cord up around the handle of the hair dryer, maybe longer than necessary. “If you want . . . I can drive behind you to Noct’s and then bring you back here. It’s no problem at all. It would be a dick move to let you walk any amount of distance in this snow.”

 

“Oh, you don’t have to. I’m capable of —”

 

“Ignis,” he interrupted. “I’m offering.”

 

“ . . . Well, in that case, allow me to find the spare car key and we’ll be on our way.”

 

* * *

  


After digging out Prompto’s old application and finding his address, Gladio and Ignis drove to his place and dropped off Noctis’ car without a single issue, going upstairs only to let the two boys know that the car was parked in the lot outside. Noctis looked like he’d just woken up, hair disheveled and what looked like Prompto’s clothes on as pajamas, but Ignis wouldn’t scold him this time. He figured he deserved to sleep in once in a while, especially for all the work he did at Stella's. Ignis also noticed how at ease Noctis looked being here, like he was the missing puzzle piece in Prompto’s jigsaw puzzle. Or vice-versa. Everything just worked, like this was how things were supposed to be.

 

It also brought about a weird twinge of jealousy, knowing that this was once him and Gladio. _They_ had this, and Ignis threw it away. But, that green monster vanished when Noctis held his hand out, waiting for the spare key to be dropped in it.

 

The door closed and Ignis and Gladio turned and walked away, their mission of returning the car to Noctis complete. As they descended the stairs and pushed open the door back into the frozen tundra of Insomnia, Gladio laughed. “Those two idiots are so in love.”

 

Ignis nodded and shoved his hands in his pockets, smirking. “It appears to be blatantly obvious to everyone else but the two of them, though it was not my intent to play matchmaker. I just wanted Noctis to have a friend again.”

 

“You always were good at romance and relationships, whether you thought so or not.”

 

There went Gladio again, spouting compliments and words of their relationship. Did he have any idea what he was doing to Ignis’ heart? And did Ignis’ scarf get tighter around his neck? Why was everything so hot and constricting?? He pulled at the fabric, hoping it would help him to breathe easier.  “Oh, you flatter me; we both know it was _you_ that kept the romance alive in our relationship.”

 

“Heh, well it wasn’t hard to do. You’re fun to spoil.”

 

Another smile. Another warm, beautiful, charming, Gladio smile that _killed_ Ignis. With pieces of his hair now fallen from their place in his bun and the sheen of sweat giving him a glow, Gladio couldn’t look any more gorgeous if he tried. And, all this talk about relationships? Romance? Could this be the opportunity that Ignis hoped for?

 

There was no time like the present, right?

 

He licked his lips and looked down at his feet before finding the courage deep inside to talk. Why did he have a feeling this wouldn’t go according to plan? “Gladio, listen . . .  I was hoping to talk to you . . . about us . . . “

 

“About us? _Us_?” Ignis thought that leading with that would make for a happy Gladio, but there was a weird, underlying guilty expression he tried hard to hide. Tried, but failed. “Iggy . . . I should probably tell you . . . I’m . . . I’m . . . ”

 

This was it. Ignis felt himself leaning forward a bit, anticipating Gladio asking for them to start over again. As he opened his mouth to answer, all before Gladio had even said a word, he faintly heard Gladio squeak out, “I’m seeing someone new.”

 

The smile faded. Ignis’ eyes widened behind his glasses, the very ones he pushed up the bridge of his nose. He gulped back the bile that rose up his throat, suddenly nauseous. Seriously, this feeling of dread was becoming a new norm for him.

 

When Ignis didn’t say anything back, Gladio rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. “I . . . uh . . . I’m sorry . . . I didn’t want you to hear it from anyone else. We’re not serious . . . I mean . . . It’s nothing seri—”

 

“But you . . . all of this . . . I thought you were trying . . .” Ignis took a step back to distance himself.

 

“Oh . . . oh, fuck, Iggy. No, I’m . . . shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t . . . I wasn’t trying to lead you on or anything . . . Fuck, I was just trying to help and . . . fuck, this is awkward.”

 

“No, I get it. I uh . . .” When had Ignis ever been at a loss for words? He wanted to yell at Gladio, to play the cool ex and laugh it off, to run away. He wanted to do a million things, but instead, he stood there, uncharacteristically fidgeting but keeping his eyes on Gladio’s. “It was a matter of time, right? We both couldn’t stay alone forever.”

 

It looked like Gladio, also, didn’t know what to do. When he reached a hand out, maybe to pull Ignis close to him, Ignis took another step back and smiled — maybe a smile a little too big for what the situation called for. “Iggy . . . please don’t . . .”

 

“No, I get it. Truly, I’m . . . happy . . . for you.” It was the worst lie ever told in the history of Eos, but Ignis played the part of ‘caring ex’ well.

 

The city was starting to come alive again as more and more people spilled out into the streets, anxious to get out of their homes after being cooped up for the last twelve-ish hours. “Iggy . . .” Ugh, that nickname tore his heart apart more. Only _he_ used it and only _he_ could still make it sound so loving and caring, like that very nickname wasn’t shattering Ignis into itty-bitty pieces right now. “Iggy, can I at least take you back to Stella's? Please?”

 

No. No, he most certainly could not. It wasn’t the most appealing idea to walk from Prompto’s apartment building all the way back to the cafe, but even the thought of being burned alive with his eyes scorched from their sockets sounded a million times better than having to be stuck in a car for a few minutes with Gladio.

 

Gladio, the man whom Ignis had reconciled to confess how much he still loved and missed him. Gladio, the man who was now seeing someone, even if it ‘wasn’t serious.’  Gladio, the man who obviously had moved on from his relationship with Ignis and who had helped shovel the sidewalk and thaw the pipes at Stella’s because he was just that nice of a guy.

 

Without directly responding to Gladio’s offer to drive him back to Stella's, Ignis had turned on his heels, a hand waving goodbye over his shoulder while he pulled his scarf up over his nose again. “Thanks for all the help earlier. Drive safe, Gladiolus.”

 

As he walked away, Gladio called out after him, each time driving the knife deeper and deeper into his heart. “Iggy! Iggy, come on! Ignis, come back!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After a long work week on both our ends, Moonside and I FINALLY get to update our chapters! All the love and support we're getting means the absolute WORLD to us! I know I can speak for both of us when I say we are always so excited to share these updates with you all!
> 
> Thank you so much!! <3


	5. Quite a Mess

Gladio had someone new.

 

_ Gladio had someone new. _

 

It was a pain worse than Ignis could ever imagine. In fact, when he decided to tell Gladio he wanted to salvage what they could of their relationship and start over, it never even occurred to him that Gladio would say no . . . let alone tell Ignis that there was someone else in the goddamn picture.

 

If he was having a hard time before with adjusting to the two of them being apart, it was magnified tenfold now. His mind was always somewhere else and, on more than one occasion, he would catch Noctis and Prompto and Luna and Iris giving him that look. The look screamed ‘what the hell is wrong with you’. 

 

He knew he was crankier than usual, but it wasn’t his fault that Noctis was more annoying now. That Prompto’s voice grated on his last nerve. That Luna’s drinking drove him insane. That Iris had that same whining habit that Gladio had. All of them irritated the  _ shit _ out of him, but really he just didn’t want to admit that he was spiraling and it was all because Gladio had someone new. 

 

Ignis tried to throw out any leftover mementos around the apartment that carried even a remote memory of the two of them during happier times. An old ticket stub from a movie they went to, or the gift Gladio got him for his birthday. There were several framed photos that Ignis tossed to the back of his closet, unwilling to get rid of them but too hurt to keep them out. Standing in his living room, hands on his hips, he surveyed every shelf and every last bit of the walls, scoping out any remaining reminder of Gladiolus Amicitia. Satisfied, Ignis huffed and that was that. Problem solved.

 

A wise person once said, ‘Out of sight, out of mind,’ but that person must’ve never been in love and had their heart shattered into tiny pieces. There weren’t any pictures lying around and Ignis hadn’t crossed paths with Gladio since the snowstorm, but that didn’t mean Ignis had forgotten about him. Oh, no — quite the opposite; the man was all Ignis could think about anymore. 

 

He’d heard Luna, Iris, and Prompto mention a million times about the people who would stalk their exes on social media from that stupid website they frequented. For the longest time, Ignis would roll his eyes and snicker under his breath, swearing he’d never be that guy if he found himself single again. What kind of person would lower and debase themselves just to catch a glimpse of their past lovers on Facebook, Twitter, Snapchat, or whatever else the kids were using these days? Not Ignis, that’s for sure. 

 

Then, he got the itch. Curiosity got the better of him and he found himself typing Gladio’s name in the search bar of one particular social site. He didn’t know why but, before he knew it, he was clicking the little arrow button to search and pull Gladio’s profile up. Both of them hadn’t been big on using their profiles to update the world on their lives, so Ignis hadn’t expected to see much. Gladio wasn’t too keen on spending a lot of time online, more content to spend his time on far more fulfilling activities like camping or reading. 

 

So it was a dreadful shock to finally load Gladio’s profile and find a brand new photo uploaded just days earlier of him and someone else, looking awfully chummy together . . . oh, the face was so familiar. Ignis knew  _ of _ him, but never actually met the guy.

 

Nyx Ulric, the attractive bouncer at Bahamut’s Brewery, had his arm around Gladio and the two smiled for the camera. Always a glutton for punishment, Ignis held his phone closer to his face and pinched his fingers on the screen, pulling them apart to zoom in on the faces of the two men. Yup, they were happy alright. And rightfully so.

 

Nyx probably didn’t have the hangups and baggage that Ignis had. Nyx was probably carefree and fun. He was handsome and, from what Ignis remembered Gladio telling him, the man never met a stranger.  _ Everyone _ loved him and, even if Gladio and he weren’t serious, they were  _ definitely _ enjoying each other’s company.

 

He probably wasn’t a workaholic. He probably paid Gladio a little more mind in the short time they knew each other than Ignis did the entire last half of their relationship. He probably didn’t nitpick or hold in his emotions the way Ignis did. 

 

Nyx was probably everything that Ignis was not and everything that Gladio needed. 

And the hole in his heart grew bigger.

 

* * *

  
  


Ignis kept up appearances the best he could. He was still an impeccable dresser, styled his hair like he always did, and wore that smug smirk of his like it was just another part of his outfit. The only problem was that his facade was cracking, his irritability now out there for everyone to see. 

 

One day, on a particularly busy afternoon, Ignis was deep in basic coffee drinks and over-the-top frappe orders. Luna was in today and so was Prompto. The three of them were running around, bypassing each other and rushing back and forth to get every order filled.

 

In the middle of their rush, Ardyn, Stella’s favorite problematic customer (favorite used very loosely, mind you), called in and demanded an entire order of drinks to be made for his office. The order came up to almost 100 gil after Ignis rang it up on the register. He sighed, rubbing his temple while mentally willing the impending headache to stay away, and asked, very clearly, if this was his way of playing a joke on everyone. Ardyn, in that stupid sing-song voice of his, drawled that he was indeed serious about these drinks and he expected them within the next five minutes, or they’d risk losing his business. The threat was almost —  _ almost _ — too tempting to pass up, but Ignis was a man of his word. If a customer wanted something, it was his job to ensure that they received it, no matter  _ who _ that customer was. After hanging up, Ignis instructed everyone to change gears and start making the drinks and, just as expected, that fucking bastard never showed up to pay nor collect the order.

 

That was basically how the rest of the day went as well, one blunder and one issue after another. At the tail end of the rush, he hadn’t meant to, but Prompto knocked over a full carafe of coffee. It was an accident, truly it was and it could’ve happened to either one of them, but Ignis frowned and snapped at Prompto to clean it up. “Pay attention, Prompto! This is unacceptable!”

 

Prompto didn’t argue. Instead, he ran to the back storage area to grab several rags so he could clean up the mess. As Ignis turned his head, muttering under his breath, he caught Luna’s judging eyes. It looked like she was going to tell him to calm down, that it wasn’t anyone’s fault. Things like this happen, but Ignis brushed by her and continued to make drinks. The last thing he wanted right now was a well-intentioned lecture. 

 

Finally, the puddle of coffee was cleaned, all the drinks were made within a decent amount of time, and the cafe was back to the calm atmosphere that many customers came to enjoy. A man sat in the corner reading and a student typed away furious on her laptop, trying to get the last of her paper complete — or, maybe she was writing as many words as she could for the story she was creating with the characters from that book series that Ignis loved so much.

 

Now that it was quieter, the three were less frazzled and able to finally breathe. Ignis felt such a gut-wrenching guilt for yelling at Prompto, his knee-jerk reaction of lashing out at him replaying over and over in his mind. As Prompto went to take his fifteen-minute break, a drink in hand, Ignis grabbed his arm and stopped him, pulling him off to the side to speak in private. “I apologize for snapping at you the way I did, Prompto. I allowed the stress of the rush to get to me and that was unfair to you.”

 

Prompto took a sip of his drink and smiled, seemingly unaffected by the earlier snafu. “Nah, that’s alright. I know it gets pretty chaotic. No big deal.”

 

Before Ignis could ask whether he truly meant it or not, Prompto walked away, pulling his phone out with his free hand — probably to text Noct about the entire ordeal. Ugh, the last thing Ignis wanted was for Noct to hear all about how he yelled at Prompto. Noctis already teased Ignis all the time for being a workaholic. He didn’t make it any secret that he thought Ignis needed a fucking break from this place, using his recent mood swings as evidence of that. 

 

Oh, if Noctis only knew.

 

Ignis placed both palms on the counter surface, letting out a long and drawn out exhale. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Luna lean her hip against the counter ledge beside him. He only turned his head up to look at her and was surprised to see the genuine concern on her face. Well, it was either that or she was feeling good and numb from the liquor she snuck in her drink again. Ignis chose to assume the former. 

 

“You’ve been rather short with the staff lately. If you’re not careful, you could see a decrease in morale.”

 

Once again, his first thought was to tell her to back off, maybe mind her own business. And, how  _ dare _ she call him out like that? But, Luna was right — he was moody and he knew people were walking on eggshells around him. Working at Stella’s seemed to only be fun when he wasn’t there, and he only knew that because Noct told him once before — maybe in jest, but, nonetheless the barb stung. 

 

Ignis hung his head, closing his eyes and pursing his lips. After a moment’s silence, he said, “I have a . . . er, my  _ friend _ has a problem they’re trying to contend with right now . . .”

 

The bell hanging on the front door rang and the clicking of heels stopped Ignis mid-sentence as both he and Luna turned to see a busty, silver-haired woman strolling in. She was all business, buttoned up into a black blazer and a tight pencil skirt. Ignis hadn’t seen her here before, so he pushed off the counter and faked a smile, ready to take this new woman’s order. “What can we get started for you?” 

 

“An iced cafe latte. Largest size you have. Four extra shots of espresso. Name’s Aranea,” she clipped, already reaching for her wallet to pay. She was obviously a no-nonsense type of woman, one who knew exactly what it was that she wanted.

 

Cafe latte. Ignis could make those in his sleep. Come to think of it, Ignis remembered it was probably one of the first drinks he really learned to make back in college, complete with the cutesy leaf design that seemed to be so popular these days. Making this would be a cinch.

 

It wasn’t like he needed help or anything, so Luna cleaned up the mess from the earlier rush while he made the drink. “Ignis, you were saying something about a friend of yours?”

 

For a minute, the ‘friend’ bit threw him off because, honestly, Ignis really didn’t have any friends outside of who worked at Stella’s. Then, he remembered he was starting to tell her about his dilemma . . . his  _ friend’s _ dilemma. He was also great at multitasking, so making Aranea’s drink while talking shouldn’t have been an issue. “Oh, right. Yes, so back to what I was saying . . .  my  _ friend _ . . . well, a while back he had been seeing someone. They were together for a while and things were fine.”

 

“Just  _ fine _ ?”

 

Fine  _ did _ sound a little underwhelming, which was not at  _ all _ how their relationship had been. No, they were more than that — they were epic. Ignis shook his head and corrected himself. “Actually, we . . .  _ they _ . . . were perfect. Things were perfect. They really were . . . So this  _ friend _ of mine . . . he may not have treated this person he was seeing all that well. Some would say he was a workaholic.”

 

“Uh, hello?” Aranea called out from in front of the counter, but she was ignored as Ignis continued to ramble.

 

“So this person left my friend. Sorry, let me say that my  _ friend _ was the one who let this person go. A mistake, mind you. One that my  _ friend _ has regretted since that night.”

 

Luna was humming and nodding at all the right points, clearly interested in this situation (she was probably already excited to run to that stupid internet board to tell everyone all about his relationship problems. Seriously, she was just as bad as Iris sometimes). 

 

He continued. “After the snowstorm, my  _ friend _ was in a bind and he thought that maybe this person was helping him from said bind because he was interested in trying to build a relationship again. My  _ friend _ put himself out there, more or less, and he was told that this person is . . .” The words lodged in his throat and he swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. “. . . This person is seeing someone new.”

 

“ _ HELLO _ ??” Aranea tried again, much louder and commanding.

 

“Ignis . . .” Luna reached a hand out, going to put it on his shoulder but he shrugged her off before she could touch him. 

 

“I just . . . I mean, my friend just doesn’t understand. He knows he should’ve cherished what he had when he had it, but . . . I — I mean,  _ he _ , doesn’t know what to do now.”

 

“ _ HEY! _ ”

 

Ignis whirled around, finished drink in hand as he slammed it down in front of Aranea. “ _ WHAT? _ ”

 

She didn’t take a sip. She barely looked down at it and her attitude was, frankly, incredibly insulting. Instead of taking it and walking away as many other customers did, Aranea picked it up and scowled. “I asked for an iced cafe latte!”

 

“I assure you that is an iced —”

 

The drink he’d just made found itself all over his chest and face, drenching the spikes at the front of his hair so they quickly sagged down across his forehead. “No! No, this is a cafe au lait! I saw you use that coffee from the pot and not the espresso machine over there!”

 

Shaking the dripping coffee from his hands and removing his eyeglasses, Ignis gritted his teeth and tried to remain professional. When she pointed out his stupid mistake, he looked at the machine over his shoulder and realized she was absolutely right. He’d been so caught up in talking to Luna about his issues — his friend’s issues — that he’d completely fucked up this woman’s order. So much for first impressions. 

 

“Maybe next time, instead of whining about your personal problems, you can actually pay attention and make a drink right.” Tutting her tongue and swinging her head to rid the bangs that had fallen over her eyes, she frowned. “And, for the love of the Astrals, just go fuck your ex, alright?? It’s so fucking obvious you’re talking about yourself!” A red blush tinged Ignis’ cheeks as she turned and stormed out the door without a single drink in her hand. 

 

His shirt clung uncomfortably to his lithe frame, exacerbating his embarrassment even more. Ignis  _ never _ made mistakes. He was just a notch under perfect, so this was a huge blow to his ego . . . and to have done so while bitching and complaining about his hypothetical friend and relationship issues? 

 

A nudge to his elbow grabbed his attention and Luna held out several clean rags for him to begin the process of drying off, though his shirt was beyond ruined at this point, stained a disgusting shade of brown. Ignis took the rags quietly and wiped his face off, then his glasses, and then tried in vain to do something to his shirt. Still in the corner, Ignis just noticed Prompto’s dropped jaw and his fingers frozen over the lit screen on his phone. There was no way he heard anything about the situation Ignis was venting about, only what Aranea had the gall to yell out loud before marching away. To Prompto, the ex in question could’ve been anyone. 

 

Hopefully. 

 

“Prompto, isn’t your break almost up?” he barked, but they both knew the blonde still easily had a few more minutes.

 

Here he was again, back to a short-fuse temper. It was only when Prompto finally tore his gaze away, focused back on his phone, and Luna’s careful nudge again that Ignis tuned in to the rapid rate his heart was beating, the dull pain in his jaw from clenching it too tight, and the ache of his muscles as he tensed every limb and part of his body. 

 

“Maybe . . . maybe you should take a few minutes to yourself, hm? I think it would do . . . your  _ friend _ . . . some good to clear his mind and breathe. Calm down, yes?”

 

Ignis blinked, replacing his glasses back on his face and running his hand through his coffee-soaked hair. He wanted to argue with her that he was needed up front, not sulking in the back office. A little coffee on his outfit wouldn’t stop him from greeting customers and making their drinks, but Luna had her hand on his upper back and lead him to the office.

 

“Prompto and I can handle this while you collect yourself. You should trust us; after all, you hired us.”

 

She reached around him and turned the handle, pushing the door open like this wasn’t up for negotiation anymore. Prompto shuffled by, trying to avoid any scolding from Ignis because Ignis was scary lately when he was in a bad mood. When he was in a bad mood,  _ everyone _ was in a bad mood. 

 

Luna smiled and squeezed Ignis’ bicep reassuringly before walking away, Prompto not far behind her after that. Without a good reason to head back out, Ignis took Luna’s advice and went into the privacy of the room, clicking the door shut behind him. 

 

He unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off of him, peeling the undershirt off of him as well, hanging both strategically by the vent where the heat blew into the office, hoping they would dry sooner rather than later. Shirtless and reeking of coffee, he sank into the rolling chair and sighed. 

 

Ignis sat for  _ maybe _ ten seconds before he literally itched to do some work. He understood that Luna was trying to help by shoving him away for some peace and quiet, but there was a reason everyone made fun of him for being a workaholic — it was in his nature. 

 

But, he didn’t turn on the computer screen to look at excel sheets. He didn’t flip through his list of notes to call in orders. Instead, he leaned back and grabbed his phone, already chiding himself because he knew what he was about to do was so stupid. Pathetic. Dumb. Any number of synonyms that described how utterly moronic Ignis was for typing in Gladio’s name in the search bar at the top of the page to reach his profile. 

 

The profile picture was still the same, obviously, but Ignis now ventured to scroll down and see if anything else had changed. He found a post sent about two hours ago from Nyx on Gladio’s wall. 

 

If he was  _ really  _ smart, Ignis would’ve shut his phone off and saved himself the inevitable heartache he was choosing to indulge in, but obviously he was a glutton for punishment lately and he wanted to know what on Eos Nyx felt the need to publicly write for the entire world to read. 

 

**Nyx Ulric —  (2 hrs) —** Great time last night, as always. ;) 

 

Six words that felt like a hot iron to Ignis’ chest.

 

Ok, but what did that mean? What did they do? They weren’t serious, right? Gladio specifically said they weren’t serious. Maybe they just went out for drinks and laughed a lot. Gladio always was the social one of the two, the life of the party and  _ everyone’s _ friend. 

 

And, really, what did Gladio even  _ mean _ when he said they weren’t serious? Was that supposed to soften the blow or something when he told Ignis? Did he  _ really _ think Ignis was such a fragile, delicate flower that he couldn’t handle the love of his life telling him that he had maybe, possibly, moved on?

 

Ignis felt a horrible cold sweat wash over him and he lowered his hand, phone still displaying the message Nyx posted to Gladio. 

 

Fine. Whatever. He didn’t need Gladio. Gladio could go fuck whoever he wanted. He could have a  _ great time _ whenever he damn well pleased . . . Stupid Gladio and his stupid good looks. His stupid sense of humor and the way he kissed Ignis like nothing else in the world mattered. His stupid hugs. 

 

Fuck, it really hurt  . . . why did he have to find someone else?

 

Ignis probably could’ve sat in that chair for the rest of the afternoon, thoughts racing, but a sweet and syrupy voice shot a sick feeling to the pit of his stomach. “My dearest Pronto! I placed a rather large drink order, and I fail to see that very order anywhere in this dismal establishment!”

 

Oh, of  _ course _ Ardyn would waltz in here, hours later, expecting his order to still be available. Even if Ignis hadn’t tossed it, everything would’ve been a melted mess. Either way, they lost because Ardyn would’ve found a way to make it seem like their mistake. 

 

“Errr . . . we uh . . . you didn’t . . . “

 

Ignis was already on his feet, pulling his shirts down from the heater and slipping into them. The heat did absolutely  _ nothing _ to dry them off — they were still gross and damp and a reminder of how shitty his day had been. 

 

“My boy, have you never heard of the old adage, ‘the customer is always right?’”

 

With a final eyeroll, Ignis took a deep breath and opened the door, readying himself to deal with his ‘favorite’ customer. 

 

It’s not like his mood or his day could get any worse. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Moonside and I SCREAMED so much over the last few days at everything we have coming up. WE ARE SO EXCITED TO SHARE THESE FICS AND WE LOVE ALL THE LOVE WE'RE GETTING FROM YOU GUYS <3 Thank you all so very much!! 
> 
> As always, please comment and kudo and all that good stuff! And feel free to come chat over on Tumblr or Twitter (my name is the same as it is here :D )
> 
> Thank you guys!!


	6. Call You

Ignis frowned, arms crossed, as Prompto and Noctis giggled over some stupid online quiz they were taking. There was a long lull between customers today, so really Ignis had no reason to be upset, but he was, stomach twisting in inevitable anger. 

 

More and more, both on the job and in their free time, he’d caught the two of them over their phones, laughing about stupid quizzes and polls. One site in particular, a trash app that specialized in silly quizzes, garbage fodder they called ‘news’, and funny photos, enthralled them the most. Ignis had the application downloaded for a day, if only to see what it was that attracted the boys’ attention, but he concluded he was losing brain cells by simply having it on his phone, so he promptly deleted it.

 

Today, Prompto and Noctis were figuring out they were mermaids based on the type of lunch food they would order (spoiler alert: they were possibly mermaids). They laughed and slapped each other’s arms, pushing each other and pointing at their results on the screen. Whether they wanted to admit it or not, they were smitten with each other. Ignis caught on to the fact that Prompto visited the cafe on his days off and they were spending nights at each other’s apartments with increasing frequency (Just the other night, Ignis finished up a basket of Noctis’ laundry and had an entire pile of Prompto’s shirts folded, ready to be placed in a drawer in Noctis’ bedroom). Big things like that were seen as little things to Noctis; Ignis saw several times how Noctis would shrug off the jokes and the pointed accusations of him and Prompto being in love, saying that they were simply just friends.  _ Best friends _ .

 

It was amusing to see how, even after learning about the bets placed on them and when they would confess their feelings for each other, they  _ still _ continued to hang out and pretend like there was nothing more between them than just a close friendship. 

 

That sort of naiveté and innocence should’ve warmed Ignis’ otherwise cold and broken heart lately, right? This was exactly what he wanted the entire time and it’s what he had in mind when he hired Prompto on that fateful day. But it honestly did quite the opposite for him. Seeing the unbridled bliss emanating from the two whenever they were in each other’s presence was maddening for a couple of reasons — a couple of ridiculous and trivial reasons.

 

The first was that Ignis didn’t feel like a necessity in Noctis’ life lately. It was dumb because it wasn’t like Ignis and Noctis hung out in their free-time or anything before, but at least  _ having  _ Noctis there made things a little less lonely. As Noctis and Prompto’s friendship blossomed, the habitual phone conversations between Noctis and Ignis after work grew less frequent. Noctis wasn’t as quick to respond to Ignis’ text messages, but Ignis definitely noticed that Noct jumped on his phone if there was even an inkling that the text was from Prompto. It was little things like that that showed Ignis he wasn’t Noctis’ go-to person anymore — that title now went to Prompto . . . and rightfully so. These days, it was rare to see Noctis without Prompto and Prompto without Nocts . . . unless they were working separate shifts. And, even then, as Ignis noted, they still found reasons to visit each other when the other one was off.

 

The other reason — the one that Ignis struggled to grapple with because it meant coming to terms with the  _ real _ reason he was upset in the first place — is that the two reminded Ignis of simpler times when he and Gladio were that happy. Seeing the way that Noctis’ eyes lit up when Prompto came through the door was like seeing how excited Gladio used to be when he saw Ignis after coming home from the bar. Or, when Ignis would get home after a long day of classes . . . before Stella’s. Before the fighting and the anger and resentment. Before everything went to shit.

 

It was the weirdest pull between two different split personalities— one that wanted to see Noctis happy, the other one green with envy that Ignis couldn’t feel that same contentment anymore.

 

So, he tried. He really did. Ignis did his best to push back the feelings of angst, guilt, anger, sadness, and frustration in hopes that he could just go on like things were ok, even when they weren’t. Normally, he would’ve scheduled Prompto for the morning shifts and Noctis for either the afternoon or evening shifts — not because he was deliberately trying to separate them, but because he admired how happy Prompto was at the crack of dawn and he was proud of Noctis’ work ethic lately and the way he took charge of things during those later shifts. Probably Prompto’s attitude rubbing off on him, but Ignis would take what he could get. 

 

Because of all this, Ignis decided he would grant the boys a shift or two extra together in the afternoon. They deserved it. After all, Ignis gave Iris and Luna and his other employees their desired schedule when they asked for it, so it was only right that he extended that same privilege to his two top baristas. 

 

Well . . . big mistake on his part. 

 

Deep down, Ignis knew this was all purely his own issue inside of him and it had nothing to do with Prompto and Noctis at all, but whatever. He must’ve been glaring long enough because Prompto was calling his name, waving his hand to grab his attention. “Helloooo? Ignis? You ok? Why are you looking at us like that?”

 

He was caught. Ignis shook his head, bringing himself back to reality, and scowled. “Because you two are getting awfully cozy with each other when you should be working.”

 

It was at the mention of them being ‘cozy’ together that Noctis took a step away, rolling his eyes. For some reason, that brought a smug satisfaction to Ignis. Prompto, sensitive to the changing mood, laughed nervously. “Aww, come on! We’re just having some fun. We’re sorry, Igster!”

 

Ignis huffed, biting his tongue at the affectionate nickname Prompto felt the need to give him. “I didn’t schedule you two together so you could stand around, ‘have  _ fun _ ’, and take mindless quizzes all day.”

 

Noctis clicked the screen of his phone off, dropping it in the pocket of his apron. “Oh, whatever, Specs. Pull the stick out of your ass. There’s not even anyone here!”

 

It was true; when Ignis looked around, there wasn’t a single soul in the cafe. “That may be,” he said, returning his eyes back on the two, “but I’m not paying you just to goof off. If you’re that bored, I can find several machines that need to be broken down and cleaned thoroughly. There’s also an entire supply closet that could be organized. The choice is yours.”

 

Prompto’s cheerful demeanor took a hit from Ignis scolding them, but Noctis was impervious to his reprimands. “You’re so hot and cold lately, you know that? Seems we can’t do anything right in your eyes anymore. If you have a problem with—”

 

Ignis took a single step forward, uncrossing his arms and rolling his shoulders back so he stood taller over his cousin. Doing this cut off whatever it was Noctis was about to say, but the look on his face stayed hard. Ignis stood,  _ waiting _ for Noctis to continue.  _ Daring _ him to voice his true feelings. Ignis could’ve really used the potential argument to release some pent up frustration, ready to yell if that’s what this boiled down to. 

 

The tense standoff continued for a second or two longer until they were forced to step back. A customer walked in, talking loudly on her phone, and Prompto pulled discreetly at Noct’s shirt to get him to move along. 

 

“I’ll take care of the customer,” Ignis said. “You two begin cleaning some of these machines. If I see so much as a drop of coffee on any of them, I’ll have you clean them again. Understood?” 

 

Under his breath, Prompto muttered, “Let’s  _ go _ .” Reluctantly, Noctis allowed Prompto to pull him away. Ignis plastered on a fake smile and greeted the woman at the register, but his ears were trained toward the two boys as they complained quietly between each other.

 

_ What’s  _ his  _ deal? _

 

_ We didn’t even do anything wrong. _

 

_ Maybe he’s just having a bad day. _

 

_ Don’t make excuses for him. _

 

_ He’s no fun to work with lately. _

 

_ Yeah, and we’re  _ not _ cozy together . . . are we? _

 

_ No, definitely not. _

 

_ Just friends. _

 

_ Yup. _

 

_ Fuck Ignis. _

 

_ Aw, dude, don’t say that. _

 

With every complaint, it just made Ignis feel even worse about what he had become. 

 

* * *

  
  


Ignis had stopped in at Partial Nourishments again, peeved that the shipment that contained the organic, sugar-free flavor syrups for coffee was impeded by a bad snowstorm just outside the city. On top of that, the holiday party was coming up and he took it upon himself to grab what they’d need — appetizers, main dishes, and a bottle of two or wine. He gave Stella's a call, alerting Iris, the sole person in right now, that he would be by later that afternoon after he was done.

 

The store was busier than usual with people stocking up for their own parties, but, other than that, nothing out of the ordinary happened on his trip. He wanted to grab a macaroon or some fresh bread, but he was supposed to be shopping for Stella's . . . not himself. Then, his stomach growled angrily, a sign that he’d forgotten to eat breakfast and was about to miss lunch if he didn’t stop somewhere to grab something to eat — something more substantial than a macaroon. There was some time before he had to be back at Stella’s, according to the time he communicated to Iris, so he decided to stop at the bistro just a few blocks up on the way back to work. 

 

The walk seemed to drag on and on, both because of the hunger pangs and, also, because of the stinging pain of his nose and fingertips from the winter chill. Ignis reached the door and shuffled the grocery bags in his arms, clumsily opening the bistro door and bolting inside, thankful for the warmth of the establishment. 

 

The place was busy with people on their lunch breaks, all wearing festive sweaters or bundled up in layers upon layers of jackets and coats. Ignis had to navigate around people as they stood and waited for their orders to come up, made harder by the fact that his hands were full and aching from exertion. When he made it to the counter, he stopped and studied the menu overhead, looking for something that could be made and eaten quickly so he could get back to the cafe as soon as possible. He trusted Iris to keep things running smoothly, but it still wasn’t fair to leave her all alone for long. 

 

The hum of idle chatter calmed Ignis. It was relaxing to hear everything and nothing at the same time, unable to distinguish specific conversations but keyed in enough to know that everyone here was enjoying themselves. One such laugh from somewhere behind made Ignis smile as he looked over his shoulder to see what made the man chuckle.

 

When he found the source of the laugh, he wished he hadn’t been so curious to look at all. His smile faltered and the world went silent.

 

How had he missed them when he first walked in??

 

Tucked near the window, crammed into two tiny chairs at a very tiny table, were Gladio and Nyx. Gladio looked so good as he laughed, holding his stomach and doubled over, about something, maybe some joke that Nyx had just finished telling him. They exchanged more words and Gladio’s smile faded, nodding about something Nyx said. Fuck, Ignis wished he could read lips so he could have  _ some _ idea of what they were talking about.

 

Off to the side was an empty plate with two forks placed on top, crumbs scattered on it, indicative of the fact that they'd shared a pastry of some sort -- maybe a muffin? Scone?

 

Whatever it was, the thought of the two sharing  _ anything _ together made Ignis reel back, barely able to keep a hold of the bags in his arms anymore.

 

"Sir? Sir? Can I help you?" the young girl asked from behind the counter, wide-eyed and cheerful. Her disposition was innocent and so incredibly off-putting.

 

For a moment, he didn't respond. Ignis just couldn't take his eyes off of the two men, lost in whatever conversation they were in. Suddenly, the bistro didn’t feel so cozy and inviting anymore. It was daunting, a prison that he couldn’t escape fast enough. The good news was that the gnawing hunger he felt earlier had vanished, replaced with the familiar acidic queasiness of his stomach he’d grown used to lately. Great, he could save himself the time and money by skipping lunch now — and possibly dinner, too, if he knew himself well enough.

 

Ignis realized that Gladio was reaching for the plate, more than likely cleaning up so he and Nyx could leave soon — probably on their way to the bar to get ready for their night shifts. He was going to put the plate on the counter where all the dirty dishes were supposed to go and end up walking right by Ignis if he didn't hurry the fuck up and get out of there in time.

 

The last thing he wanted was to have another awkward conversation with his ex while his new . . .  _ thing _ . . . sat at a table just a few feet away.

 

"Sir?" the cashier called out again.

 

Ignis ignored her, hoisting his bags up higher and ducking his head down behind them slightly as he hurried out the bistro and back into the cold. For anyone else, the chill would cause them to wince, wind nipping at their nose and cheeks; for Ignis, it did absolutely nothing.

 

Once again, he felt completely and totally numb.

 

* * *

  
  


All he could think about for the rest of the day and well into the night was Gladio sitting across from Nyx at that fucking bistro. Each time the image popped into his head, he cringed and felt his heart stop.

 

It was late. Stella’s closed  _ hours _ ago and here Ignis was, finding reasons to stay here instead of going home to his empty, soulless apartment. Looking at the clock on the wall, Ignis wasn't even phased at the time. It was all relative these days, like the minutes and hours didn’t mean a goddamn thing to him anymore.

 

He took his time that night finishing the closer checklist, at one point getting on his hands and knees and scrubbing the baseboards clean because he was still _that_ wired. Once everything was done, every nook and cranny polished and spotless, he slung the rag he used to clean over his shoulder and leaned against the edge of the counter, trying hard to be proud of his work. And, honestly, why shouldn’t he be proud of his work? He started at nothing and now had a thriving coffee shop in his name. The _best_ _damn coffee shop_ in Insomnia. He _was_ proud of it, but so much had happened that it tainted his view of Stella's as it stood right now.

 

Noctis and his relationship was strained, stretched thin the more Noctis hung out with Prompto and the more Ignis turned into himself and denied feeling anything anymore.

 

Ignis went around and started turning lights off, double and triple checking that everything was ok for the night, but he stopped. His phone vibrated in his back pocket several times. It was spaced out just enough to not be a phone call but, instead, a series of text messages. Who could be texting Ignis at this hour? It was late and immediately he panicked, thinking Noctis was in trouble and needed his help, but why was he texting Ignis and not his own father?

 

Flicking his thumb up and over to unlock his phone, Ignis' lips curled into an unamused frown upon seeing the incoherent texts flooding his messaging app. It was Prompto and he was obviously three sheets to the wind, firing off text after text declaring how much he loved Iggy and how much fun he and Noctis were having at Gladio’s bar.

 

Of course, Ignis' first thought went to the fact that Noctis was out on a work night, getting wasted when he had to be in early the next day. They all were supposed to decorate Stella's for the holiday party -- the holiday party that Ignis didn't even want in the first place (ok, that was a lie. He was happy that everyone would get a night off to just relax and hang out, going as far as paying everyone as well. But still).  His fingers itched to respond, wanting to scold the two boys as they probably pounded drinks -- fruity, fru-fru drinks, no doubt.

 

Just as Ignis began to put his phone away, one more message came through and knocked the wind from his lungs. It wasn't the glassy-eyed boys sitting at the bar with cheesy grins that riled him up, but the man standing behind them.

 

Two times seeing him in one day. Just his luck.

 

Gladio had the most strained smile pasted on his face, but at the same time he looked to be enjoying the company before him, throwing up bunny ears behind Noctis’ head. Gladio’s hair, like always, was pulled back into a bun and his glasses were pushed high on his nose. Compared to how happy Noctis and Prompto looked, Gladio appeared almost drained. Was he tired of babysitting the boys as they hung all over each other at the bar? Or, maybe, was there more to his vapid expression?

 

The caption that accompanied the photo was a compilation of letters and numbers, but Ignis thought maybe Prompto was trying to say 'Wish you were here!" . . . or something like that. For once —  _ for once _ — Ignis wished he was there too, enjoying everyone's company. Instead, he was stuck in this hellhole because he was too fucking stubborn to admit he had been wrong and he didn’t want to go home.

 

Ignis went around again, traversing from the front of the cafe to the back, stopping at the supply closet, passing the back office, and found his way back up to the front. He zoned out, lost in thought as he stared blankly around. He fucking missed Gladio something fierce. The text messages had ceased and Ignis hoped that maybe the two boys found the common sense within them to head home and sleep everything off instead of going to the pancake place or the Chinese restaurant not too far from Bahamut’s. 

 

He stole a glance at his phone again and reopened Prompto’s nonsensical text messages. When he reached the photo of the three of them, Ignis traced a finger over Gladio’s face. Where had they gone so wrong? 

 

The better question was, where had  _ Ignis _ gone so wrong?

 

With a sigh, he started to put his phone down,  _ again _ , but stopped. A sudden burst of courage — or idiocy — surged through him and, before he could talk himself out of it, he scrolled through his 'Favorites' list where Gladio's name still remained, never having the heart to delete him from that list. Ignis pressed on the name and leaned forward on the counter, holding his phone up to his ear with his elbow on the counter.

 

The phone rang twice and then there was some commotion as Gladio picked up. "Hello?"

 

He sounded like he'd just been laughing, breathless and clearly not really paying attention to whomever he'd answered the phone for. The bar was probably closing up and maybe he was rushing to leave soon. Ignis took a deep breath and closed his eyes, all the courage he'd mustered seconds ago now a fleeting memory. He forced the name from his mouth. "Gladio?" he said, though it sounded more like a question. It was a foreign word on his lips these days.

 

The background noise was too much and maybe Gladio hadn't heard the accent that tinged his name because he didn't react. No, now his voice was farther away and he was laughing again, yelling playfully. "Nyx, you son of a bitch! Just wait until later! I'm gonna kick your ass!"

 

Ignis dropped his head, his grip on his phone tighter as he fought to stay present. Calm. Focused. He tried but deep down he knew he couldn't. Of  _ course _ , Nyx would be there. Why wouldn’t he be? And, of  _ course _ , he would be flirting his way into Gladio’s heart. Gladio's voice was back closer to the receiver now and he was mumbling idle threats toward his . . . whatever they were (because they were nothing. They weren't serious. They were basically just friends. That's all . . . ). "Hey, yeah, hello?"

 

There was a woosh of noise as Gladio seemed to pull the phone away again, looking at the screen to see who'd called him. Ignis' name must've still been in his contact list because he was back suddenly, the tone of his voice changed to something more urgent and desperate. "Iggy? Hey, Iggy, are you there?"

 

Ignis' tongue was far too big for his mouth. Too dry to swallow. Too upset to do or say anything. He removed his glasses from his face and placed them on the countertop, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I . . . no, I'm sorry. I . . . uh . . . meant to call Noct. Sorry, Gladiolus."

 

As he went to press the red ‘END’ button, he heard Gladio yell out, "No, no, no, no! Iggy, wait! Please don’t hang—” before he ended the call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly there's NOTHING I can say now that I haven't said before. I'm so appreciative for all the comments and kudos and I HOPE YOU ALL ARE LOVING THIS AS MUCH AS I'M LOVING WRITING THIS! <3 Moonside and I are psyched about these next chapters. We are so excited and we thank you so very much for all of the love and support we've received from these fics. 
> 
> COME SCREAM WITH ME ON TWITTER AND TUMBLR! Same name as here :D I love to talk about these two lovebirds <3


	7. Moved On or Hate You

 

The holiday party was finally here.  

 

The tree in the corner was practically toppling over after Noctis was too fucking lazy to right it in its stand. Everyone was dressed in festive sweaters, Ignis had shut down Stella’s for the night, drinks were flowing, people were laughing, and everyone in attendance was having a great time.

 

Even Ignis, for the first time in a long time and with the help of several drinks from Luna, was enjoying himself. He’d found himself perched on a table off to the side, conversing with her over gods knows what. Really, it was nice to have a decent buzz going and some good company to distract him for a bit. 

 

Though he and Noctis were a little distant lately, Ignis was glad to see his cousin so happy and carefree —  a look that Ignis swore he’d probably never see again on his face. And, at the end of the day, he had Prompto to thank for that.

 

Ignis watched as Noctis and Prompto had the best time, with Noctis hanging on to every word Prompto said, even if he’d deny it later. They got pictures in the photo booth that had been ordered specifically for the occasion and everyone whispered behind their backs how  _ adorable _ they were and how  _ great _ of a couple they were. Ignis fought back the laugh that bubbled up — these two idiots  _ still _ had no idea just how in love they were. He wondered how long it would be until they figured it out. 

 

His bet had been placed for some random date in the middle of January so part of him hoped maybe they’d hold out, but by the looks of things, it seemed they’d figure their shit out by the end of the year. 

 

For the next bit of time, Ignis talked with Luna and even allowed her to introduce him to her brother, Ravus. Her matchmaking scheme was so transparent. “Ignis, you would  _ love _ him. I really think you should at least get to know him. Gods know that you could use someone in your life.”

 

So, Ignis tried and, truthfully, it was nice to talk to someone outside of his little work circle. Ravus was a man of few words, each of those words more biting and sarcastic than the last. He was successful, but hated his job, and was stunningly gorgeous. He had the driest sense of humor and, more often than not, Ignis wondered if maybe he was just biding his time until it was socially acceptable for him to put his drink down and leave. He looked positively  _ bored _ , but anyone could tell he doted on his sister, much in the way Ignis doted on Noctis.

 

They found common ground in that, talking about their brotherly (or, in Ignis’ case, cousin-ly) duties while sipping drinks through pursed lips. Other than that, it was a pretty cold and unfriendly conversation with the occasional backhanded compliment every once in a while.

 

Successful party, right?

 

But Ignis couldn’t see into the future; He had no way of knowing about the absolute shitshow that the night would devolve into, starting just minutes later.

 

It started with Ardyn Izunia showing up with a bag of disgusting trash, attempting to pass the contents of said bag off as gifts to everyone. Lucky Ignis got some shitty, cheap plastic ring and Ardyn called him ‘Igloo’ several times out of what had to be spite. Maybe it was the drinks Ignis enjoyed earlier, the look of fear on Prompto’s face and the look of disgust on Noctis’, or maybe it was just pure, unadulterated hatred for the man, but Ignis kicked the trash hobo out of the establishment — with Iris’ help, of course — pleased that he left without putting up a huge fight. 

 

That should’ve been the worst of the night, but no.

 

The bell on the door rang again and Ignis looked back at it, his smile and joy sapped as soon as Gladio walked in. 

 

Not alone, however.

 

No.

 

He had Nyx Ulric in tow.

 

It wasn’t the alcohol that made him want to run to the bathroom and throw up. It couldn’t have been the drinks that made him feel like the floor was ripped right out from under him. It definitely wasn’t the liquor or the champagne toast or the lone shot that caused his face to pale, his throat to constrict, or his stomach to drop to his feet. 

 

Everyone else was so damn happy to see Gladio and meet this new guy he brought along, but not Ignis. 

 

Looking back, he’d always detested the amount of alcohol that Luna drank, especially when she snuck it on the job, but tonight Ignis was beyond grateful. He reached out without asking and grabbed the bottle of vodka — her second one and thank gods it was barely touched at this point — and unscrewed the cap, relishing in the burn and wincing as he chugged away Gladio’s presence. 

 

And from there, everything became hazy.

 

* * *

  
  


If anyone was staring, he didn’t know. 

 

If anyone was whispering, he didn’t care. 

 

Ignis was  _ gone _ .

 

His vision was blurred and, on several occasions, he tried to adjust his glasses on his face because that  _ had _ to be the reason that he was seeing double and triple. It wasn’t because he’d easily downed an entire fifth of vodka like it was water — oh, and on an empty stomach. 

 

He stumbled and caught himself on someone’s shoulder, snickering at his own clumsiness. When he looked up, his eyes following the length of his arm all the way to his hand, he giggled again at his luck. He’d clasped onto Nyx’s shoulder, interrupting the conversation that he was having with Gladio. 

 

“Oh, shit man . . . you ok?”

 

Ignis smirked, moving his hand from Nyx’s shoulder to his upper back, patting it like they were best friends. “Never  _ better _ ! How are youuu?” he asked, his voice fluctuating octaves. 

 

The look that Gladio was giving him at this point was indiscernible. For all Ignis knew, he could’ve been embarrassed or he could’ve been concerned. Nyx, however, was none the wiser and smiled. “It looks like  _ someone _ is having fun!” he joked, allowing Ignis to loop his arm around his shoulders and hang on him without a care in the world.

 

“Oh . . . oh someone is having  _ fun _ , alright!” Ignis winked, pointing at Gladio with the bottle of liquor clenched tightly. “You and  _ Gladiolus _ are having a  _ grand _ time together, aren’t you?”

 

Now, Gladio’s eyes were as wide as saucers, no doubt nervous about where this conversation was headed. Ignis knew he’d never been more than a little tipsy in the entire time he’d known him, so this was probably quite the sight. Nyx chuckled and took a sip of his beer. “I guess so . . . right, Gladio?”

 

“Uh huh, yeah,” he responded, but his attention was focused more on Ignis. Even when Nyx brought a hand down and laced his fingers in with Gladio’s, the larger man couldn’t look away from Ignis. 

 

Ignis smiled at them and brought his drink up in a toasting gesture, teetering on the edge of mocking them. “What a  _ beautiful _ couple. The two of you couldn’t be  _ more perfect _ . Nyx, you are  _ so lucky _ .” He turned and started to yell, “Let’s all  _ toast _ to the  _ new _ —”

 

The rest of Ignis’ words were muffled as Gladio threw his hands up to his mouth and, strangely enough, no one realized that Ignis had been yelling at all, but that was probably because everyone else was too wrapped up in their conversations to notice or care about Ignis’ drunken descent into embarrassment. As soon as he proved he was done, Gladio released Ignis. “How much have you had to drink, hm?? This . . . this isn’t like you.”

 

Ignis pretended like he was giving thought to Gladio’s question and his concern, but he winked and took another drink from the bottle. “It’s funny,” he slurred. “Everyone says I need to loosen up — you . . . Noct . . . everyone . . . I need to have some fun, right?” He tapped a finger on Gladio’s nose, laughing as he made a ‘boop’ sound. “So, here I am!”

 

Nyx distracted himself with downing the rest of his beer now, clearly wishing he was anywhere else but here the more that Ignis rambled. Ignis  _ loved _ it. He loved looking over and seeing the discomfort in Nyx’s expression, the way he tensed up, the way he found the floor absolutely  _ fascinating  _ right now, kicking his feet and tapping a toe on the tile. 

 

Ignis stepped in between the two men, grinning wolfishly at the pair as he slung his arms up and around them, hugging them close. “Gladio, you look  _ so happy _ with Nyx. You just . . . you deserve the best. More than  _ I  _ could give you . . . you poor thing . . . dealing with me for our entire relationship . . . Gods . . . you put up with  _ so much _ . You’re so good and perfect . . . Nyx is so lucky.” He looked up and squinted at Gladio and Nyx, a cheesy grin on his face. “You are a lucky man, you know that?”

 

“Ignis . . . seriously, you’re making a scene,” Gladio whispered. With his back to a majority of the party, Ignis had no idea that some attendees stopped what they were doing, watching the scene unfold. 

 

The muscles in Nyx’s shoulders were tense under Ignis’ arm. “Maybe I should head out. This . . . uh . . . I think this is something better left to —”

 

“No, Nyx you’re fine. This is fine,” Gladio reassured, trying — and failing — to extract himself from Ignis’ grip as he guzzled more alcohol. “Fuck, Ignis! Will you  _ stop _ with the vodka??”

 

Ignis ignored him, responding by wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and leaning his head on Gladio’s arm. “Ohhhh . . . Gladio, always looking out for people.  _ That _ is probably why Nyx, here, is with you!”

 

“Gladio, listen, I can just meet up with you later . . . You can just call me when you leave.“

 

The way that Gladio turned his head toward Nyx, eyes wild and frantic, angered Ignis. It was like a switch went off and he wasn’t the endearing — yet, still cringeworthy — drunk he was seconds ago; Now, he was upset and wondering why on Eos Gladio came to Stella’s with his ‘friend’. Why? To hurt Ignis? To toy with him? What the fuck was his deal?

 

Just as Ignis was ready to ramble his questions to the man, he shut his mouth shut when Gladio pleaded with Nyx. “No! No, just—” Gladio threw Ignis’ arm off from around him, but then grabbed him by the wrist. “Give me a few minutes, ok?? Let me just . . . just give me a minute to take care of  _ this _ .”

 

Oh. So, now Ignis was a  _ this;  _ like a problem that Gladio couldn’t wait to get rid of. 

 

Nyx didn’t move. He didn’t react. He barely even acknowledged the two. Ignis smirked and allowed himself to be dragged away by a very angry Gladio, through several groups of party attendees, all the way to the back of Stella’s where it was quiet. 

 

Gladio threw Ignis’ wrist aside and stood in front of him while Ignis happily drank more from his bottle. The consequences in the morning would be painful, but at least tonight he was numb and relaxed. He let out a loud gasp, breathless from the length of time he drank. He waited to be raked over the coals by his ex for his drunken behavior.

 

“What the fuck, Ignis??” Gladio growled, reaching for the liquor bottle as Ignis tried to take another swig from it. He missed as Ignis danced just out of reach, eyes half-lidded. “What the  _ fuck _ is your deal?”

 

That struck a nerve in Ignis. He closed one eye and tried to focus on Gladio but his stare went straight through him. “ _ My deal _ ? You bring your . . . not-serious friend to  _ my  _ establishment . . . and suddenly this is  _ my _ fault?”

 

Gladio saw an opportunity as Ignis let his guard down and snatched the bottle out of Ignis’ hand, holding it high before Ignis could realize he was without his precious alcohol. “We’re not together, Ignis! You and I? We’re not together! I can hang out with whoever I want!”

 

Ignis sputtered a sound, a mix between disbelief and annoyance. He was ready to push every button he could at this point. “Hang out. Yeah.  _ That’s _ what you’re doing.”

 

A vein bulged by Gladio’s temple as he tried to contain his frustration. “Are you  _ jealous _ ?? Seriously?? I’ve been  _ trying _ my  _ fucking hardest _ to move on because it was  _ clear _ what relationship you wanted to be in. You chose work over me.  _ You _ did that! I tried. I tried so fucking hard and I wanted a future with you! I wanted more and you . . . you  _ let me _ walk away like you didn’t give a damn. Can you  _ fucking blame me _ for trying to move on?”

 

Gladio dragged his hand down his jaw and closed his eyes, his nostrils flaring. Ignis wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but he wasn’t expecting to hear the pain in his voice as he fought back emotion. He blinked and adjusted his glasses, licking his lips and finding he was desperate for some more vodka to drown his sorrows away even further. 

 

The bickering would never end between them. It seemed like they would always be destined for failure, never able to truly work through their differences. Maybe this is how things were supposed to be — Ignis forever alone with his stupid coffee shop and Gladio with someone far better than Ignis. But, every fucking time Ignis almost came to accept that, something would happen to change it: Gladio calling about Iris’ cat, helping with the snow, seeing him with his lover at that bistro in the corner . . . there was always something to bring him right back into the depths of heartbreak hell. It was only fitting that tonight would be another one of those moments.

 

Ignis wasn’t sure how neither one didn’t hear him, but Nyx cleared his throat and grabbed their attention, standing there at the end of the hallway leading into the back room of Stella’s. Gladio whirled around and Ignis knew he’d been forgotten about in that moment, despondent and watching the two now as they looked at each other. He could practically hear Gladio try to formulate a coherent excuse, because that’s really what it was at this point. They both knew Nyx had heard Gladio speak from the heart about still trying to move on.  “Nyx, just a few more minutes, ok? I’ll . . . I’ll be done soon. He’s just talking nonsense.”

 

“It’s not him that has me upset,” Nyx said. “I  _ told  _ you I wasn’t sure you were over your ex. I know you swore up and down that you were, but you wanting to come here tonight? And everything you just said?”

 

Ignis tried to inch his way around so he could see Gladio’s face, but from where he was, he wasn’t able to. He just had his tone of voice and body language to go on. Gladio sounded defeated when he spoke. “I didn’t say anything . . . Ignis is . . . we are . . .”

 

“Gladio . . .” Nyx exhaled, running a hand through his hair. Ignis noticed there was a sagging in Gladio’s shoulders and a loosening of fingers around the neck of the liquor bottle. “I don’t think you can be with me until you sort yourself out, first, ok? I like you. I think you’re a great guy, and you deserve happiness, but . . . I think you need to figure out whatever  _ this _ is,” he gestured vaguely between the two, “before you really try to move on.”

 

“Nyx, come on . . . this is . . . we are . . .” Gladio faded off, unable to find the right words . . . or maybe he was coming to terms with what Nyx was implying. Ignis shifted his weight, uncomfortable with the awkwardness in the air. He tried to be sneaky and grab the liquor bottle, but Gladio, without sparing a passing glance, held it above his head again out of Ignis’ reach. It would’ve been funny — Ignis jumping to grab the liquor —  if the entire scenario wasn’t so embarrassing and depressing.

 

Nyx shoved his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugged a gesture of acceptance. “Yeah, that? You unable to finish that sentence? That tells me everything I need to hear.”

 

Ignis, somewhere in the recesses of his drunken mind, wondered if they’d argued about this before because, before he knew it, Nyx was giving them a small wave goodbye as he turned and sauntered away. Gladio didn’t call after him. Ignis tried again, in vain, to get his alcohol back and it was only then that Gladio glared daggers down at him. Ignis stopped and tried to stand there like someone who was halfway sober. “Look what you fucking did, Ignis.”

 

He balked, taken aback by the accusation that this was all his fault (it was a little bit, but the alcohol let him think that Gladio was,  _ again _ , in the wrong,  _ like always _ ). “What . . . what  _ I  _ did? Why Gladio; it is not  _ my  _ fault that you can’t keep a relationship.” Ignis was fairly certain that his eyes were glazed over, bloodshot and unfocused. He pushed his glasses up with the palm of his hand and became mad when the lenses became smudged.”Just because Nyx could never measure up to  _ me _ . . .”

 

Now he was going too far, and, by the looks of it, Gladio had enough. 

 

“To you? To  _ you _ ?? Ignis, are you even  _ hearing _ yourself?! For fuck’s sake, you can barely keep your own life together while running this gods-forsaken place. Good fucking luck trying to find anyone else who is willing to put up with your overworked ass.”

 

It sounded like a challenge. Ignis sneered and crossed his arms, but for whatever reason, that seemed to knock him off balance and he stumbled back into the wall. In his own head, though, he was still graceful and fierce — his clumsiness wouldn’t deter him from snapping back at Gladio. “Watch me. I can find someone who would  _ love _ to be with me . . . and still run this place with no . . . no issues.” 

 

“Sure. Ok, Ignis. You have fun with that. Go find someone. Whatever, you do what you feel like you have to do.”

 

“Hahaha, ohhhh Gladio . . . you are  _ so cute _ when you’re threatened. You seem to have  _ noooo _ problem leaving  _ us _ in the past, hm? Running into bed with the first guy who so much as passed a glance in your direction.”

 

He hadn’t meant it and he didn’t know  _ why  _ the words came out, but they were there and Ignis couldn’t take them back. He was hurt and angry and selfish, resorting to childish low-blows. He wanted to blame it on the alcohol, but maybe that was just the lubricant to loosen up all the dejection and sorrow he’d felt for a while now.

 

Gladio, for the second time that night, looked crestfallen. Had Ignis been sober, he probably would’ve felt guilty about the whole thing, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care what the fuck Gladio felt right now. “You’re a mean drunk, you know that?”

 

Those words, and the way they were said, sobered Ignis right up — well, figuratively. He snapped to almost instantly and seethed. “Well, I didn’t bring my rebound to my ex’s holiday party,” he hissed. 

 

Gladio opened his mouth to say something and then thought better of it. Placing the bottle of vodka on a countertop where the sink was, he said, “Goodnight, Ignis. I’m going home.” With his eyebrows furrowed, he took a deep breath and walked away, leaving Ignis alone in the back, sliding down the wall to settle for a seat on the floor. There was some chatter, Gladio’s deep voice carrying back but not loud enough for Ignis to make out what he was saying. But, when he heard the front door open and then slamming shut, it was obvious that Gladio said some quick goodbyes and hurried away. 

 

There were a flurry of emotions waging war inside Ignis as he grappled with what the fuck just happened. He pulled his long legs close to his chest and hugged them close. The room spun uncontrollably as the adrenaline from their fight wore off and the sheer amount of alcohol he’d drank burned his stomach and bubbled up his throat. Ignis brought the back of his hand up to his mouth, resisting the urge to vomit all over himself and the floor where he sat. 

 

Footsteps approached from down the hall. Ignis worked to raise his head, a difficult task when everything felt so damn heavy now. When he did, the person walked almost gracefully and stopped just a few feet in front of him, eyeing Ignis from above. Ignis recognized him after several long and awkward minutes, his head moving to rest back against the wall. “You . . . are . . . who are you??”

 

Fuck, and usually Ignis was so good with names, always remembering people when first introduced. He was mortified that this man — this very attractive, silver-haired, tall, and annoyingly stoic man — happened upon him in this state, so clearly drunk out of his mind and two seconds away from throwing up and passing out. 

 

As he knelt down, holding a glass of water in his hand, he thrust it at Ignis and said, “Ravus. We were speaking earlier.”

 

Well, this was fucking embarrassing. The night was flashes and snippets at this point, but Ignis remembered speaking to Ravus extensively earlier that evening and leaving him as soon as Gladio and Nyx had walked in. “Oh . . . right . . . “ Ignis replied, sluggish to reach and grab the water.

 

“You’re a mess.” His words were short and clipped, no attempt made at hiding his judgment.

 

Ignis tried to bring the water to his lips, knowing full well he should probably take the steps to sober up and avoid a hangover in the morning, but half the glass spilled down the front of his shirt and he realized this would be a long night. “It appears that way,” he pouted, not helping his case in the slightest. 

 

It could’ve been seconds, minutes, or, hell even hours, but Ravus continued to kneel in front of Ignis, judging him as Ignis’ breathing labored and his eyes grew heavy. Fuck, he was falling asleep, wasn’t he?

 

“You’re falling asleep.” 

 

Yup, he was, and all he could do was moan a mumble of a response. 

 

More footsteps came up and Ignis wanted to crawl into a hole and die, hating that he did this to himself. How the everloving fuck had he gotten to the point of self-destruction?? Well, he could probably write up an entire thesis on  _ that  _ rhetorical question . . . 

 

“Is he ok?”

 

“He’ll be just fine. Go grab his coat for me, if you would, Lunafreya. I’ll see to it that he gets home safe.” Ravus turned to look at Ignis, still slumped and trying rid the double vision he was stuck seeing. “You . . .  _ do _ know where you live, yes?”

 

Ignis scrunched his face, offended. “Of  _ course _ I know where I live. For you to even insinuate — “

 

“I didn’t insinuate; I straight up asked if you know where you live because you’re far too intoxicated to even know your name. And, yes — “ Ravus interrupted as Ignis opened his mouth. “ — I am judging you.”

 

“ . . . Fair enough.”

 

Ravus held out a hand, but his face was an expression of . . . was it disgust? Vexation? Whatever it was, Ignis didn’t have it in him to decipher it and simply placed his hand in Ravus’ outstretched one, allowing himself to be pulled up. Ravus was strong and built under his buttoned-attire, pure muscle and maybe a few inches taller. He smelled really good, but he wasn’t Gladio. He would never be Gladio.

 

Oh, Gladio, he pined for only a moment.

 

Their fight returned to the forefront of his mind and the knot in Ignis’ stomach wound tighter. In response, he curled his fingers tighter into Ravus’ shoulder and the man instantly reacted. “Are you so incapacitated that you can’t walk? You are a bigger wreck than I would’ve taken you for.”

 

Together, with Ravus’ arm around Ignis’ waist and Ignis’ arm up around Ravus’ back, they stumbled — well, more like Ignis stumbled and Ravus guided him — down the hall and through the dwindling party. Everyone was watching, waiting, fucking  _ gleeful _ that the great and powerful Ignis Scientia was drunk off his ass and a total wreck. Luna chased behind and handed Ignis’ coat to Ravus while Iris shot off text after text to  _ whoever _ it was she was texting. Ignis wanted to yell at her to put her phone away, that she was at work and she needed to get back to making drinks, and maybe he did because Iris yelped and dropped her phone.

 

Outside, the cold air hit him like a slap in the face and Ignis had to make the conscious effort to move with Ravus, walking in step with him as he gave mumbled directions to his apartment. Other than that, not a single word was spoken between the two. Off in the distance, a group of carolers sang and lights twinkled on the buildings they were hung from.  

 

They finally made it to Ignis’ building and Ravus still held on to him as they made their way to the elevator, up to Ignis’ floor, and all the way down the hall to his door. 

 

Everything else was a blur of Ravus placing another cup of water at Ignis’ bedside and some aspirin, Ignis crawling under the covers — still clothed — and the light flicked off when Ravus walked out. 

 

Some shuffling.

 

The front door clicking shut as Ravus left.

 

* * *

 

Ignis fell into a dreamless, alcoholic coma until the sun was peeking up over the horizon the following morning. After downing the aspirin and chugging the cup of water on his nightstand in a futile attempt to rid himself of the pounding headache of his hangover, he dragged himself out of bed and padded to the kitchen to get another full glass of water, uncomfortable in his clothes from the night before, 

 

For a minute, the entire last half of the night was a gap in time to him, a blur of nothingness, until a piece of paper caught his eye on the way to the fridge. Several numbers were scrawled on it and Ignis raised an eyebrow, picking it up and studying it. Ravus must’ve scribbled his number down before leaving and for a moment, Ignis debated crumpling it up and tossing it in the trash. 

 

Then, he remembered his fight with Gladio. The falling out between him and Nyx. The look of absolute disdain and then hurt he shot Ignis. The fact that Gladio said no one would put up with him.

 

If Gladio wanted to try and move on, then Ignis reasoned he should as well.

 

And the thought of going out with Ravus was too good of a prospect to pass up. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long delay!! Work was crazy this week and some other stuff popped up that I had to see to. Moonside is the freakin best for taking time out and helping me with this chapter. <3
> 
> As always, thank you so freakin' much for the comments and kudos and for screaming with both of us across Twitter, Tumblr, Discord, smoke signals, carrier pigeon, messages in bottles, and whatever other way you guys are letting us know you love these fics as much as we love writing them. Thank you!!!


	8. Lying On Your Couch

Ignis reached out to Ravus the morning after the holiday party, still recovering from the wicked hangover he no doubt deserved. Ravus was slow to respond but, when he did, his reply was typical of the man Ignis remembered at the party — cold, clipped, and borderline bitter. 

 

That’s how it was for the next few days as they texted back and forth; short little messages that danced around the topic of meeting up for a date. The fact that Ignis was talking to anyone should’ve been enough to turn his mood around, if only for a bit, but it did nothing. It wasn’t that Ravus and Ignis didn’t have chemistry, because they absolutely did — in a snarky, back-and-forth sort of way. It’s just that . . . well . . . Ravus wasn’t Gladio. 

 

He lacked the warmth and fun that Gladio radiated. He wasn’t particularly nice either, but Ignis still appreciated his dry sense of humor. Both men were built and stood proud and tall, but there was something a little more inviting about Gladio’s presence that Ravus’ presence lacked. 

 

Still, Ignis felt it owed it to himself and to Ravus to at least see if there was  _ something _ there. After all, Gladio had no problem running off with Nyx and the fact that he did that stung. More than stung, it had kept Ignis up all hours of the night more than he cared to admit as he agonized over the fact that it was Nyx in Gladio’s arms and not him. It was Nyx who got to see Gladio laugh, frown, read his novels, or eat his shitty pre-packaged, sodium-laden Cup Noodles.

 

Even if Nyx and Gladio were over — or, so it seemed, judging by the hazy recollection he had of their fight and of Nyx walking away — the damage was done.

 

The jealous side of Ignis — the one that seemed to make an appearance more and more lately —  reared its ugly head again as Ravus called and  _ finally _ mentioned meeting up for drinks. It was that jealous side of him — the revenge-seeking and spiteful side of him — that accepted, his mind on Gladio as he did. When Ravus asked Ignis where he’d like to go, he immediately blurted out, “Bahamut’s Brewery is a fine place for drinks.”

 

Ignis would’ve used the excuse that Bahamut’s was close and the drinks really were that good, but the Astral’s themselves would’ve laughed at the bold faced lie, knowing full well that Ignis was just using this opportunity to catch a glimpse of Gladio and rub it in his face that he, too, could nab a good looking guy. 

 

And yeah, he  _ could _ get someone that could put up with his ‘overworked ass’, as Gladio so eloquently put it. 

 

Yeah, this will show him.

 

* * *

 

 

Later that week, Ravus came to pick Ignis up and together they walked the blocks to the bar, mostly staying to themselves with their hands shoved in their pockets to keep somewhat warm. Their breaths created tiny little puffs in the air, the winter chill keeping its hold on Insomnia and not letting up anytime soon. 

 

Ignis breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made it and he saw that Nyx wasn’t working tonight . . . not that he gave a flying fuck what Nyx thought of him, but the shame from the other night — and the way Ignis acted at that party — still hung over his head like a stormcloud that wouldn’t go away. He didn’t feel like facing the look of pity that Nyx would probably shoot his way, so it was a godsend he wasn’t there. 

 

Ravus held the door open and a  _ whoosh _ of stale cigarette air greeted them as they entered. It was a dark bar but it had a lot of character. It was  _ the _ place to be among the college-aged crowd and the locals alike. The drink specials were top notch and rumor-mill said that the bun-wearing, tattooed, spectacled bartender was great eye candy. 

 

And, lo and behold, that same bun-wearing, tattooed, spectacled bartender was bustling about behind the bar tonight, juggling glasses and bottles of liquor and a soiled dishrag like it was no big deal. Seeing him again after only a few days made Ignis’ head swim and suddenly this didn’t seem like that great of an idea anymore. Ignis wanted to leave, but he couldn’t. He was frozen.

 

Ravus skirted around and stared down at Ignis as he passed. “This is not a place I'd normally find myself in, Scientia. The drinks better make up for the . . . abysmal atmosphere. So far, I'm not impressed. And, quite frankly, everything looks . . ." He turned his nose up and scowled. “Dirty.”

 

Ignis didn’t even have it in him to counter back with something relatively clever. Ravus  _ would _ be upset about coming here. With a roll of his eyes, he led the way toward end of the bar, to the two seats in the far corner where the music wasn't as loud and the crowd was a little more sparse. As they walked down the length of the bar, Ignis waited and felt a little jolt of smug glee — but . . . also, a horrible sense of guilt? —  when Gladio looked up, went to greet them, and froze. Literally, it was like all the life and happiness left his face, visibly gulping and pale. Even when Ignis looked away, he knew Gladio still had his eyes on them, watching.

 

Both Ravus and Ignis removed their coats and draped them on the backs of their chairs, pulling them out and sitting down. Gladio took a few minutes to get to them, finishing up with the group of sorority girls begging him for the fruitiest shot he could create. When he broke free from their incessant questions and endless requests, he sauntered over, not the least bit pleased — whether that was because Ignis was there, of if it was because Ignis was with someone else (or, maybe, he was just fucking tired of dealing with all these people who couldn’t make up their goddamn minds as to what they wanted to drink) remained to be seen. "Ignis . . . surprised to see you here,” he said, his voice gruff. “And . . . and this is . . .?"

 

Before Ravus could utter an introduction, Ignis was already all over it, ready to rub it in Gladio’s face that he was out with someone new. "This is Ravus Nox Fleuret. He's the brother of Lunafreya and a successful businessman. We met at the holiday party the other night and I wanted to take him out for drinks."

 

Gods, Ignis was so fucking obvious . . . and obnoxious. Gladio grimaced a smile, reluctant to give a handshake to Ravus. "Well, it's . . . uh . . . it's good to meet you, Ravus. Sorry if I missed you at the party. Things got a little . . . uh . . . dramatic, if you can believe it."

 

"Yes, I’m sure," Ravus replied, tapping a finger on the surface of the bar, clearly unamused. "I felt the party left a lot to be desired. Too dull for my tastes."

 

Ignis’ tolerance for Ravus’ pretentious attitude was wearing thin. Nonetheless, he painted on a smile and faked his happiness. "Oh, Gladio? Could you please get me a double scotch, neat? It’s been one long week and I could use something to take off the edge."

 

“Sure,  _ Iggy _ . . . whatever you want. Double scotch, neat, coming right up..” He turned to Ravus. “And you?”

 

He contemplated the question over for a moment, considering his options. “Your finest merlot, if you will.”

 

“We . . . we don’t carry wine here. Mostly beer and liquor. We may have some house wine somew—”

 

“Merlot, or no?”

 

“ . . . No.”

 

Ravus glowered and dragged a finger down the sticky, dirty, laminated drink menu he’d pulled from the side somewhere. "I guess if I must subject myself to such . .  .  _ disgusting  _ beverages . . . then I will have a gin and tonic," he ordered for himself.

 

Both Ignis and Gladio continued to stare at Ravus as he remained oblivious to their glares — or maybe he was very attuned to their judging looks, but was doing a good job at pointedly ignoring them.  _ Pretentious fuck,  _ Ignis thought as Gladio faked a smile, heading off to grab their drinks. 

 

When Gladio placed the drinks on the counter — Ravus making a point to grimace at the lack of cleanliness of his glass — Ignis lifted his drink to Ravus and pointedly said, “To new beginnings.”

 

Ravus didn’t return the sentiments in words, but he did lift his drink in the same manner and clinked it to Ignis’, knocking it back with little effort. When Ignis brought his drink to his lips, he noticed the longing stare he received from Gladio, startling him from drinking to his own toast. They locked eyes for maybe a second or two longer, but it was Gladio that tore his away in favor of helping another customer while Ignis continued to stare where Gladio once stood.

 

That was how the rest of the night went. Ravus would bitch and complain about  _ everything _ and Ignis took it in stride, but deep down he was silently  _ praying  _ for the night to end. It wasn’t that Ignis didn’t  _ like _ the guy, but he definitely wasn’t on his top list of favorite people. Ravus just seemed to have a chip on his shoulder, always salty about everything. Literally everything.

 

His work? Bitter.

 

His car? Salty.

 

His high-rise apartment? Angry as fuck.

 

So, Ignis smiled and pretended to be interested. After a while, however, he found himself throwing glances again in Gladio’s direction. At the same time, it was painfully obvious that Gladio was distracted by the pair as well. Every chance he got, Ignis caught his stare from down the bar as he helped another customer, cleaned another glass, or cashed out another tab.

 

Nearing the end of the night, Ravus slammed his third glass of gin and tonic down and waved a hand in the air lazily.. "Would you excuse me? I need to use the restroom." His chair scraped against the floor as he got up to find the bathroom, leaving Ignis alone and giving Gladio the perfect opportunity to swoop in.

 

Even if he didn’t show it, some part of Ignis deep down smiled.

 

Gladio, however, didn’t look thrilled and that somewhat dampened the mood between the two of them. "You know,” Gladio started, brushing an errant hair from his face, “Noct said you weren't yourself lately, and now I have to agree with him."

 

Honestly, Ignis expected a groveling apology. A beg for forgiveness. He definitely didn’t expect another dressing down from his ex. 

 

Fucking  _ Gladio. _

 

Ignis raised an eyebrow and pushed his glass an inch or two closer to Gladio so he could refill it. The fact that Noct went behind his back and said  _ anything  _ at all boiled the blood inside Ignis. What . . . were they a  _ team _ now? Was Noct even aware of the entire story? Regardless, the scenario didn’t sit well with Ignis "I’m out with a friend, Gladiolus. I have no idea what you are talking about, but I assure you I’m perfectly well."

 

Gladio sighed and reached under the bar, finding the bottle of scotch that Ignis was enjoying and poured it into his glass. "I think you know exactly what I'm talking about. The mood swings? The fact that you’re shutting yourself off from everyone?  _ The holiday party _ ??" When Ignis took the scotch, he sipped it slowly while Gladio shook his head, dismayed. "Cut the shit, Ignis. You and I both know what this is about. Let’s be fucking real, ok? We can keep doing this whole back-and-forth charade or we can be adults and talk about what the fuck is wrong.”

 

“There’s  _ nothing _ wrong.”

 

Gladio eyed Ignis over the rims of his glasses, a few stray strands of hair falling over his face. “Really? You  _ really _ mean that? You can look me right in the eyes and tell me there’s  _ nothing _ wrong and we . . . err . . . you’re ok?”

 

Ignis looked into the glass like it was the most interesting thing in the world at that moment before putting the glass back down on the counter. When he found the courage to bring his eyes up to Gladio’s, he felt the world almost stop. There was a moment between them and Ignis thought that maybe he could put a voice to all the thoughts and feelings he'd had since their breakup, since he tried to ask for Gladio back, and since the holiday party. He could try, right? "Gladio . . . I . . . Maybe I . . . We . . . "

 

“Yeah?”

 

He took a deep breath and tried again. “Gladio, maybe I do —”

 

The moment was ruined as Ravus came back, grabbing his coat from the chair. "This place is dull." It was a statement, not a question. He wanted to go. “Plus, there are  _ pool tables _ here.”

 

Gladio raised an eyebrow, practically a permanent look for him at this point around the silver-haired man. “Yeah? What about it?”

 

“It screams, ‘college students’ and college students scream immature, though I imagine I don’t need to spell that out for you.  Pity, really.”

 

Fucking  _ Ravus _ . 

 

It should’ve been Ignis’ fight to deal with since Ravus was  _ his _ date, but Gladio seemed to be more than happy to cross his arms and argue with him. “If you were lookin’ for showy martinis and high-class wines, this place ain’t it. We actually have  _ fun _ here.”

 

Ignis sunk a little in his seat, trying to sip what little alcohol was left in his glass as Ravus pulled his wallet out. “Fine. The tab.”

 

Gladio didn’t look too sure of himself anymore, his words now a little shaky. “Sure . . . uh . . . together? Or separate?”

 

“Together. Here’s my card,” Ravus answered for Ignis

 

Gladio uncrossed his arms and Ignis wondered if he was trying to steady himself by placing his hands on the edge of the bartop. His eyes were softer, almost pleading to Ignis. Every word left Ignis’ overly-extensive vocabulary and he stayed mute, but his mind screamed. Maybe it was because Ravus was there, or maybe Ignis was just a fucking idiot, but he watched as Gladio sighed in resignation, pushing off of the counter and grabbing their tab from the computer. “Here. Just . . . whenever you’re ready.”

 

Ravus placed his card down and pushed the tab back to the edge with one finger where Gladio picked it up, cashing them out without another word. The whole thing made Ignis ill and he wished he hadn’t come here at all. Making Gladio jealous didn’t make Ignis feel any better about himself — in fact, it did the complete and total opposite. It made him feel worse, absolutely disgusted with himself. 

 

Ravus started to walk off, leaving Ignis behind, but he no doubt expected Ignis to follow soon enough. He could’ve stayed behind, been the bigger man and put an end to this whole thing, but his mind raced with all the different ways it could lead to disaster. Maybe Gladio was just being nice like he always was. It wouldn’t be the first time Ignis misread things and assumed his ex was opening the door to rekindling something between them. Maybe Gladio really  _ did  _ just care about his well-being and he was still too angry with Ignis burying himself in Stella’s to want to start anything again.

 

For a smart man, Ignis really wasn’t the brightest lately with his decisions and his love life. Still, as he walked away — with every step toward Ravus and with every step away from Gladio — he tried to will away the thought that he was making a huge mistake by leaving. 

 

If he’d looked behind one more time before walking out the door, he would’ve seen Gladio’s face twist into a look he’d never seen before.

 

Regret.

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis didn’t want to be alone. After how he felt leaving Gladio's bar, he really didn't want to be alone. So, he went against his better instincts — seriously, it was comical at this point how often he did that lately — and invited Ravus inside. 

 

It was only supposed to be one more drink, but somehow the glasses, barely touched, were abandoned on the coffee table in the living room in favor of a heavy petting and makeout session on the couch. Ravus was settled comfortably on top, pushing Ignis deeper into the cushion and pinning one arm above him against the armrest.

 

As much as Ignis hated to admit it, it felt nice to be intimate with someone — to have that weight on top of him and to have someone that he could lose himself in for just a moment. It just really fucking sucked that Ravus didn’t know to kiss that part of Ignis’ neck that Gladio always did. It was disappointing that Ravus bit Ignis’ lower lip a bit harder than necessary, drawing blood and a sharp gasp. He wasn’t vocal. He didn’t taste the same. 

 

But, beggars can’t be choosers, and Ignis was just ready to try and move on from the hurt and the heartache.

 

Ignis dragged his free hand from where he’d tangled his fingers in Ravus’ hair and clawed down his back, pulling at the fabric of his fancy dress shirt. Ravus kissed up Ignis’ jawline and found his earlobe, nipping just enough to elicit a low moan from him. 

 

His cock hardened, pressing against the seam of his pants. Fuck he just wanted to be touched. Ignis bucked his hips up, grinding against Ravus to try and find some relief. A cold hand pushed Ignis’ shirt up and brushed against the planes of his abdomen, his thumb grazing against his nipple.  Ignis grabbed Ravus’ ass, grinding upward at the same time as he tried to stifle a whining moan.

 

All this kissing and touching made Ignis dizzy. He was losing himself in the moment, fading in and out between being grounded under Ravus and letting his mind float elsewhere. Somewhere where he was happier and carefree.

 

Somewhere with Gladio.

 

Suddenly, he was under the covers with Gladio in their bed on a particularly sunny morning. A lazy Sunday, if Ignis recalled correctly, where neither man had anywhere to be, free to just be with each other. Ignis always loved to kiss along the lines of Gladio’s tattoo, able to do so blind if he had to with how many times he’d mapped it with his fingers and lips. He remembered how Gladio would mumble, “Love you,” as he buried his face in Ignis’ shoulder, scratching his beard against his porcelain skin.

 

Ignis missed how Gladio made him feel when they were in bed together, like it was his mission to render Ignis completely useless and spent. He longed for the way Gladio would expertly touch and wrench passionate cries from Ignis . . . the way he plied Ignis’ mouth open with his tongue . . . the way he’d grind against him . . .

 

“ _Gladio_ . . . _please_ . . .”

 

His eyes snapped open.

 

Oh. Shit.

 

The magic of the moment was gone. Ignis wasn’t in his bedroom anymore. It was dark. He was on the couch. And Gladio most certainly wasn’t on top of him. 

 

And he definitely just called out the wrong name. 

 

Ravus pulled away, his expression dark. “What did you say?” 

 

Ignis furrowed his brows, breaths coming heavy now. He had to be quick. He had to think of something. “I’m . . . glad . . . glad you’re . . . here?”

 

He eased off of Ignis, sitting back and wiping his lips with his thumb and giving Ignis enough space for him to inch out from under him. Ignis sat up, clearing his throat and pressing his sweating palms into the tops of his legs. Even in the dark, Ignis could  _ feel _ Ravus’ eyes on him, glaring and judging.

 

It was Ravus, though, who broke the silence. The tense, miserable, neverending silence. "You truly are a fool, aren't you?"

 

"Wait . . . what??" Ignis sputtered, his fingers digging into the fabric of his pants. 

 

"My name . . . is not Gladio . . . and this night is now over."

 

“Ravus, please. Don’t —” The rest of Ignis’ sentence caught in his throat as Ravus stood up, pulling and smoothing his shirt coldly. “I can . . . please let me . . .” What was he going to say? Explain? Apologize? No, really, what could Ignis have  _ possibly _ said to make this situation better?

 

Apparently nothing because Ravus grabbed his coat from where he’d slung it across a chair, his posture ramrod and stiff. At first, Ignis thought he was hearing things, but no; Ravus was definitely chuckling a low sound. Seriously, Ignis would’ve sworn on his own life that Ravus didn’t even know  _ how  _ to show any emotion other than sardonicism. "When my sister spoke of you, she sang your praises and I believed her. I put a lot of faith in her words and agreed to give you a chance. However, I did not sign up to deal with a man who had as much baggage as you."

 

Baggage. He had  _ baggage _ . Even though Ignis reasonably knew that, it still stung to hear it out loud. He just sat there like a child in trouble, ashamed and speechless. “It’s been . . . I’ve never . . .”

 

“I’ve not the time to listen to someone’s . . .  _ issues _ . Please, bore someone else with the mundane details of your hapless love life.” He shrugged the coat on and buttoned it, pulling his shoes on after. Ravus didn’t even deign to say goodbye or wave or anything, clicking the door shut with such a finality that it made the entire scene that much more unbearable. 

 

The silence was deafening. Everything seemed way too big, or maybe Ignis just felt that small. Looking around, he noticed for the first time how desolate and hollow his apartment really seemed, a direct reflection of how he felt inside. 

 

For the first time, it hit him he was alone.  _ Truly alone _ . Noct had Prompto. Gladio probably didn’t give a flying fuck about him. He knew what the people at work said about him and how unbearable he was. Not even Ravus was willing to put up with him. 

 

Ignis felt a painful lump lodge in his throat and he swallowed thickly, closing his eyes. Breathing. Deep breaths. Keep calm. Don’t lose it. Don’t lose control.

 

But talking himself through the pain could only get Ignis so far. His eyes snapped open and, without thinking, he lashed out. In one swift motion, he snatched his glass — still relatively full — and threw it at the wall. It shattered, a loud, sharp sound with glass flying every which way. A large liquid mark stained the wall, dripping down to the floor. 

 

Fuck it, he didn’t care. 

 

With a growl, Ignis stormed to the bedroom and slammed the door, flopping on the bed and suppressing the urge to scream. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah, this took longer to get out than I expected. I don't even really have a good reason other than I just failed miserably XD But I hope you guys like this chapter! Iggy needs a lot of hugs and love <3
> 
> We're over the halfway point of these fics and I CAN'T BELIEVE IT. How did we get here?!? How did Moonside and I get such amazing readers?? We love you guys so much!! Thank you for all the love and support! 
> 
> As always, come scream with me on Twitter or Tumblr . . . same name as here :)


	9. Another Goodbye

It was the dead of winter, but Ignis knew it wasn’t just the season that dulled his senses and made everything look bleak and dreary.

 

Ignis spent a lot of time the night before, after Ravus left, just staring at the ceiling.

 

The walls.

 

Out the window from his bed.

 

On his phone.

 

He tossed and turned, hot and cold, kicking the sheets off and then pulling them back up. The hours ticked by endlessly, torturing him with the elusive prospect of sleep as the world passed by outside. Even in the middle of the night, hours away from having to go to work, he was anxious, thinking of his day at Stella’s.

 

So, it was no surprise that, after _finally_ getting up and getting ready,  the entire walk to the cafe made him nauseous, nerves twisting his stomach into a knot of agitation. He knew the schedule and he knew that Prompto and Noctis were working together today. So happy. So upbeat. So in love.

 

It had been the one shift they probably looked forward to all week.

 

And the one that Ignis dreaded the most.

 

Even though business was great that day, Prompto and Luna —  his morning/afternoon workers —  were on top of things the entire morning, and the customers were generally pleasant, Ignis stomped around in a huff. He made more noise than he probably should’ve. He slammed drawers, pressed buttons harder than necessary, and made both Prompto and Luna jump and yelp on more than one occasion by yelling at them because they were simply breathing too loud.

 

It was only when Ignis was in the back getting something, sometime in between the afternoon and evening, that he heard the bell on the door chime. There was some hurried mumbling between Luna, Prompto, and now Noctis as he came in for his shift, probably everyone warning each other that Ignis was in a shit mood, once again.

 

Grabbing what he needed off the wired shelves, Ignis rolled his eyes and prepared for the worst shift of his entire life with Prompto and Noctis.

 

And it was as bad as he thought it would’ve been.

 

Throughout their entire shift, the two were so oblivious to their flirtatiousness. They worked so well together because they were totally in sync. They were _soulmates_ , and that seemed to enrage Ignis even more —  the coy looks, the playful banter . . . Astrals, Ignis just needed to get away. He needed a breather and some time alone before he screamed. So, he snuck away to the back office and waited, back against the door, knocking his head back once. Twice. Three, four, five, several more times.

 

Outside, Prompto and Noctis were noisy, making drinks and goofing off.

 

_Get back to work. Get back to work. Please, get back to work so I don’t have to come out and deal with you two anymore!_

 

He counted, waiting for them to focus again instead of goofing off and making up all sorts of drinks on the house. Yes, Ignis knew he’d told Prompto when he’d hired him that drinks were, more or less, free, but he’d hoped they would actually _work_ for them. But, there hadn’t been much working lately between them. Whenever Ignis happened upon them, they were busy fooling around. Why couldn’t they just fucking do what he asked them to do?? It wasn’t hard!

 

Then, the banter quieted and Ignis could only hear the faint tune of a country-singer-turned-pop-star singing about how she’d been wronged by her enemies. The door opened — a customer coming in to order a drink — but neither of them made a peep. No greeting. No asking what they wanted to order. Not a sound.

 

Ok, maybe they were just . . . no. No, they weren’t busy. Ignis knew them better than that. They were distracted; but why, he didn’t know. The silence stretched on for far too long and Ignis began to wonder where those two idiots were, now. He frowned and opened the door, popping his head out and flinching when he saw what he probably wasn’t meant to witness.

 

Prompto and Noct were inches apart from each other, lips slightly parted and both sets of eyes heavy and half-closed. This was _not_ the time to figure out shit like this — they were at work! There were customers who needed their drinks! “What the hell are you two doing??” he barked, his question bringing them back to reality as they fell back, startled.

 

They sputtered, apologizing profusely — even though Prompto’s apology sounded way more authentic and genuine than Noctis’ did. Really, as much as Ignis wanted to be happy for the two for almost figuring their shit out — more than he could say about himself — now definitely wasn’t the time. “You two are impossible,” he reprimanded, pointing a finger back out into the main area. “There’s a customer _right there_.”

 

Prompto immediately bounded away, grabbing the drink order from the waiting customer. Noct, on the other hand, remained behind. There was a long silence, Noctis probably nervous and waiting for Ignis to say something. It was in that silence that Ignis started to feel guilty that he interrupted their moment — after all, he would’ve been just as pissed if someone came up and barged into the simple, quiet moments that he and Gladio used to steal away for themselves.

 

He thought about how he probably should’ve retreated to his office for just one more second, let them have their first kiss and been done with it, but then Noct brought his face up and the two locked eyes.

 

The look on Noct’s face, something akin to questioning Ignis’ motives and a simmering fury underneath, changed Ignis’ mind and he remembered that he has a business to run. After hours, Noct can do whatever the fuck he wants . . . or, that’s how Ignis justified it. “Get back to work,” he said, stepping back into his office and closing the door behind him again.

 

For the last several weeks, Ignis felt like a rubber band, stretched thin and ready to snap at any given moment. Every single heart-wrenching, gut-aching, embarrassing moment played over and over in his mind. The montage flashed faster and faster until the last image in the long line of mental movies was Noctis’ face, standing there after getting caught.

 

There wasn’t a lot of space in the back office, but Ignis attempted to pace back and forth in the small area, arms crossed and muscles tense. How _dare_ Noct give him that look, like Ignis was the one in the wrong. How _dare_ he act like Ignis was the one that did something bad. Noctis and Prompto were the ones that wouldn’t grow up! They were the ones who continued to act like perpetual sex-driven teenagers, ready to jump each other at any given moment. It wasn’t Ignis’ fault!

 

Wait.

 

No.

 

This _was_ Ignis’ fault.

 

If he hadn’t hired on Prompto in the first place, this wouldn’t have happened. If he had just moved on to the next interview candidate instead of focusing on Noctis’ happiness, this wouldn’t have been an issue. It should’ve been business first and Noctis second, right?

 

Be that as it may, Prompto was a part of this group now and Ignis genuinely appreciated all he did for Stella’s. But . . . but . . . he had to take matters into his own hands. He _had_ to end this . . . this _disgusting_ happiness and PDA right now.

 

In a huff, Ignis leaned forward and moved the computer mouse, waking the screen up. Every click echoed loudly as he angrily opened the scheduling program he used, re-printing the schedule for the following week. On a rampage, Ignis was determined to make it known that Stella’s was _his_. It seemed to be all he had left anymore and he’d be _damned_ if Noctis and Prompto wanted to play on work time.

 

When the papers were printed, Ignis grabbed them from the printer tray and snatched the red pen from the pencil cup in the corner. He marked harsh, angry red marks through names and dates. He drew arrows and circled shifts. He marked every square inch of the sheet until there was barely an unmarked portion of the schedule anymore. Heart pounding, pulse racing, Ignis slammed the pen down and looked at his handiwork.

 

For the next week, he put  Noctis on morning shifts while Prompto was moved entirely to night shifts. There were no overlapping shifts between the two, sometimes a good few hours between the end of Noctis’ shift and the beginning of Prompto’s. Luna and Iris alternated mids and Ignis made sure he was scheduled to be there all day, every day — one, to make sure that no one tried to trade shifts and two, because he wanted to throw himself into work and escape the hell of a life he’d made for himself.

 

It was, quite possibly, the worst scheduling setup he’d ever made.

 

It was a mistake. It was too far.  

 

Closing his eyes, trying to calm himself, Ignis reached behind and slumped back into his office chair. This . . . this wasn’t anyone’s fault. He shouldn’t be taking out his wrath and hurt on everyone else, realistically understanding that he needed to get his shit together. It wasn’t fair of him to lash out in this manner and there was absolutely no rationalizing his actions. Noct and Prompto didn’t know the backstory; they didn’t know what was going on in Ignis’ personal life and he honestly doubted that Gladio spilled anything to the nosy duo even if they asked.

 

Running on fumes that no amount of Ebony coffee or any caffeine could cure, a splitting headache a constant behind his eyes, Ignis shook his head and pushed the schedule aside. He just needed to stop. He needed to _stop_ . Frustration brewing, Ignis placed his hand on the mouse and clicked around on the computer, looking for a distraction. Something. _Anything_.

 

Unfortunately, his distraction always seemed to be stalking Gladio’s Facebook page, like it had been for the last . . . however many weeks now. When the profile loaded, the internet slower than it should be for how much he paid for it, Ignis’ heart lurched a little in his chest.

 

Gladio’s profile picture wasn’t one of him and Nyx anymore; instead, it was back to the default one he’d had before of him at the beach, bronze skin shining under the hot sun and his surfboard tucked under his arm, hair pulled back like always. _Fuck_ , he looked good.

 

There were no new posts or status updates since before the holiday party — not surprising since, again, Gladio wasn’t one to really use social media much. Ignis scrolled down a bit more and squinted, a weird, bitter taste in his mouth when he saw that his relationship status was marked ‘Single’.

 

Oh. So, he _was_ single.That fight at the party was for real . . . wow. He didn’t want Gladio to be alone, not by a long shot, so he felt . . . guilty? Yeah, guilty. Guilty that Gladio was single. He was alone.

 

Just like Ignis was.

 

Ignis clicked a few more times, caught up in a batch of photos that Gladio still had up of the two of them during happier times. It was funny how these pictures captured all the good moments and none of the bad ones. For a second, Ignis wondered why they’d even broken up, but pictures could do that to anyone — they could make anyone nostalgic for the past.

 

Looking at the pictures, leaning in to study every minute detail in them, made Ignis realize how fucking unhappy he was . . .  but he couldn’t stop. Realistically, he knew he needed to pull himself out of this depressive hole he’d spiraled into, but it was such an impossibly large task to ask of himself.

 

Climbing Ravatogh sounded like an easier feat than that.

 

So sucked into stalking his ex’s page, Ignis didn’t even hear Noctis come in, standing in the doorway as he asked some ridiculous question, something about being out of something. Ignis didn’t hear him, but he did feel his cousin’s presence behind him, eyes zeroing in on the computer screen that just so happened to be pointed at the entrance of the office.

 

_Fuck._

 

Noctis stuttered before Ignis sat up straight, clicking out of every window he was in like he’d been caught doing something bad, like he was watching porn or something. As much as Ignis wanted to say that this wasn’t him — that he wasn’t the guy who slacked off, staring at Gladio’s Facebook page, cut off from the world — he knew that it was exactly who he had become . . . and it filled him with the worst shame.

 

That mortification, naturally, turned to annoyance as he looked to blame Noct for his own careless mistake of leaving the door open. Ignis _always_ seemed to want to blame him these days.  “Noctis,” Ignis snarled, face burning as his cheeks flushed red. “I’ve told you to knock.”

 

Noct jutted a thumb behind him at the doorway. “Uh . . . the door was wide open, dude.”

 

The way Noctis said this, like Ignis was a fucking idiot (honestly, Ignis was the one at fault but he didn’t want to give Noctis that satisfaction of being right), really pissed Ignis off. “What do you want?” he barked.

 

Then, he remembered Noct came back there for a reason and doubled back to that. They were out of syrup up front, if he recalled correctly, but Noctis should’ve known where to look without bothering him. “The sugarfree is in the Partial Nourishment box, I told you that, Noctis.” Ignis furrowed his brows, glaring. “If you weren’t so damn distracted with Prompto every time I try to get you to do something in this place, gods help me, you’d actually know things.”

 

This was it. Ignis could feel the metaphorical rubber band stretching thinner and thinner. Ignis thought every moment before was his rock bottom. He thought rock bottom was when he wanted to talk to Gladio about getting back together. Then, there was the moment he saw Gladio out with Nyx and, later that evening, chickening out after calling him. The holiday party. The fight. Calling out Gladio’s name while on the couch with Ravus.

 

No, it was an accumulation of everything, but mostly it was Noctis standing here, right now, catching Ignis pining for his better half while Noctis’ better half was cheerfully making drinks just feet away. None of this made sense, but Ignis was passed the point of making sense anymore. Who said rock bottom had to make sense, anyway?

 

“I just asked a question,” Noctis responded in a voice barely above a murmur. He cowered just a bit and there was  a brief moment where Ignis sawt he small boy he’d grown up with. His old friend. His best friend. Noctis’ face twisted into something between concern and being intimidated. “Ignis . . . are you —”

 

He stopped, both his eyes and Ignis’ catching sight of the same thing at the same time.

 

The schedule.

 

It was still on the desk where Ignis left it, red marks and all.

  
  
Noctis cocked his head, staring at the schedule the best he could from where he stood. “Did you change the schedule? What happened, is someone sick??”

 

“I’ve made some changes,” he clipped, snatching the paper from the desk and shoving it in Noct’s hands.

 

The slow realization dawned on his face and Ignis can tell panic is beginning to cloud his thoughts. Ignis knew that opening shifts were a special kind of hell for Noct, but to be without his ‘best friend’ for the entire week?? That was just low. “What the hell, Ignis? Why am I scheduled for mornings??”

 

Things were about to come to a head. “I told you, Noctis; if you two can’t work without distraction, I’m going to separate you.”

 

Noctis’ voice wavered. “That’s not fair . . . Ignis . . . we didn’t do anythi —”

 

“Noctis, drop it,” he warned, cutting in before Noctis could say anything further. “And, you’d best get your attitude together, before I tell your father what a lazy slacker you’ve been.”

 

Noctis had done a _great_ job at being a responsible employee at Stella’s since day one. Sure, he complained a lot, but he picked up on things fast and he had a great rapport with the customers. Ignis had come to rely on Noctis to help with things and he knew he could trust him, so that’s why when he heard the words come from his mouth, that Noctis was a lazy slacker, it surprised even him. It’s a cheap shot, but Ignis can’t think straight anymore. His brain had become nothing more than a heartbroken, depressed, muddled mess, but his sharp retorts were still biting and quick.

  
  
It’s obvious that Ignis had hit a sensitive nerve because Noctis glowered, eyeing Ignis with absolute disdain. “Keep my dad out of this.”

 

“Stop being an insufferable, lovesick idiot then.”

 

The back and forth is hurtful . . . And then, when Ignis thought they couldn’t go any lower with their words, Noctis did one better and went for the jugular.

 

“You’re an asshole, Ignis,” Noctis hissed, the words dripping with pent-up frustration and laced with an irascibility that Ignis never knew Noctis possessed. “No wonder you’re fucking alone.”

 

Ouch.

 

Everything had come full circle. It was one thing for Ignis to sit alone in his apartment night after night — after Gladio’s departure, after Ravus’ exit the night before — and contemplate his lonely existence within the confines of his own cage of a mind, but to hear it out loud was . . .

 

It was more than Ignis could take.

 

As much as he wanted to crumple and break down right now, Ignis wouldn’t grant himself that reprieve. Instead, he took a few steps back and fell into the chair behind him, defeated. With a ragged breath, Ignis realized he couldn't even look his cousin in the eyes anymore. The rift between them was far too great and there’s nothing that could be done right now to mend it.

 

As much as Ignis was at fault, he couldn't exactly take the rest of the day off. One of them has to leave, and Ignis isn’t going to be the one to do so. WIth a hand over his mouth and his eyes cast off somewhere to the side, Ignis said, “Go home, Noctis. Your shift’s over.”

 

“I didn’t . . . I’ve got like . . . two hours left — “

 

Ignis could tell that Noctis wasn’t expecting this. They’d never had a fight quite this bad in their entire lives, so it’s only natural that he was surprised it’d gotten this far. And, who knows? Ignis almost wondered if maybe one of them will call the other later on that night, apologetic and ready to put this entire thing behind them.

 

But, Ignis could tell this wasn’t like their other fights. This wasn’t like all those times where Noctis would act like a little brat or where Ignis would use his age, height, and intellect to boss Noct around. This was bigger than them.

 

To those on the outside — Noctis, Prompto, _everyone_ — Ignis was just a bitter, overworked douchebag, but . . . but . . .  

 

The corners of his eyes pricked with hot tears and Ignis bit the inside of his cheek to ground himself, stopping the onslaught of emotions from hitting him right now. With a deep, wavering breath, he looked Noctis square in the eye and said “Go. Home.”

 

There was absolutely no room for debate. Ignis was tired. Noctis was fired up. And this was going nowhere.

 

With a final growl, an silent anger of epic proportions on Noctis’ scale, he hissed, “Fuck off, Ignis.”

 

As Noctis stormed out of the office, the sound of him tearing the old schedule off the wall and crumpling it in his hands reached Ignis’ ears and he winced.

 

_Fuck off, Ignis._

 

“Gladly,” he muttered, pushing his glasses up further on the bridge of his nose as he prepared to take on the rest of the shift until closing with just Prompto.

 

The rubber band snapped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have tried to write a decent author's note for the last like . . . five minutes?? But I'm still so blown away that you all still come here and read this Coffee Shop fic of mine and Moonside's!! I will save the sappiness for a later day, but wow. <3 Thank you guys, seriously!
> 
> Please come scream with me on Tumblr and Twitter! Same name as here :D
> 
> (Also, please excuse any typos or anything! I'll re-read this again [after rereading it twice tonight] tomorrow! I'm sleep deprived and work has me running on fumes right now DX )


	10. Are We Out of the Woods Yet?

The week after Noctis and Ignis’ big blowout fight became a blur of coffee, customers, and a heavy, dark cloud over Ignis’ head. He was at Stella’s from open to close every day, wearing himself out just to make it through every second. Every minute. Every hour. Every moment of every day to just forget everything.

 

It wasn’t until the end of the week when Ignis flicked his eyes to the door, waiting for Noctis to arrive, that Ignis realized no one had spoken a word to him since the Great Schedule Change. No one. Not a single fucking soul. They didn’t even want to be in the same room as him anymore.

 

“He’s not coming today,” Luna piped up from the corner behind the counter, reading Ignis’ mind as he patiently stood there. He should've known when she came in today instead of Noct, but when Ignis looked at her, confused, she elaborated. “Noct? He’s feeling a little under the weather. He won’t be coming in for his shift today . . . or to start inventory.”

 

“Oh,” he frowned when told of Noctis’ sudden illness, looking down at the paper clipped to his clipboard with the word ‘Inventory’ in big, bold letter across the top.

 

What was worse was that Noctis didn’t even have the decency to write Ignis himself to let him know he wouldn’t be in. He had Luna do it for him.

 

It was like a punch to the gut.

 

Of all days for him to call out . . . Noctis was supposed to help out with Stella’s year-end inventory, having volunteered himself some time ago, but Ignis wasn’t an idiot — he knew that Noctis was avoiding him for all the shit he’d put him through this week, what with taking Prompto away from him, treating him like he was disposable, and just being an all-around ass to him and to everyone else.

 

Luna gave a sad sort of smile, reassuring nonetheless. “Ignis, this has gone on long enough, wouldn’t you agree?”

 

He adjusted his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose. “I’m afraid I’m not sure what you’re talking about.”

 

She could’ve been referring to the whole thing with Gladio, the fight with Noctis, or the fact that he was in way over his head with work, but she didn’t elaborate and Ignis didn’t press her further as she walked away to take care of a customer who just walked in.

 

* * *

 

By some grace of the gods, Ignis was able to close up shop on time and get home at a relatively decent hour — a huge relief because he knew he would be up before any sane person would be up, starting the inventory he was supposed to start that day. There just wasn’t enough time after Noctis stood him up, so he resigned himself to the fact that it would be another ‘Ebony for Breakfast’ kinda morning the next day.

 

When he got home, Ignis put his stuff down and turned the heat on higher to get the chill out of his apartment. A quick shower, some fresh pajamas, and Ignis was ready to settle into bed for another sleepless night. The fatigue was starting to physically manifest itself on his face— dark circles under his eyes, the faint stubble along his normally clean-shaven face, and the way his hair was less than perfect nowadays. He knew he should try to take care of himself, but what was the point? Why even bother when his heart hurt this much? Gladio . . . Noctis . . . everyone . . . everyone hated him.

 

It didn’t matter to him anymore. Nothing did.

 

Just as he was about to turn off the light, leaning over to pull on the chain of the lamp, his favorite book from his favorite series, placed just off to the side on his nightstand, caught his eye and he stopped. For whatever reason, seeing the book brought a sense of comfort to him, one he hadn’t felt in a while. How long had it been since he lost himself in the world of the wayward prince and his royal retinue? Too long, if he asked himself.

 

Forgetting about getting some sleep, knowing it would ultimately be futile to try, Ignis reached over and slid the book toward him, propping himself up on a few pillows and angling the book in his lap so he could read a few pages. It was probably his third or fourth readthrough now, but this time he’d last left off at chapter nine, when the royal price won his battle against the Tidemother, but discovered that his advisor, and childhood friend, lost his sight in a fight on his own.

 

Ignis knew the book like the back of his hand, so he knew that chapter ten covered more of the shattering of the group’s bond after all their losses. The four men struggled to find their way, guilt-ridden and forlorn. Before when he read this chapter, it hardly meant anything to him — just another sad and angsty moment to get the friends to the next scene. Now? Now when he read the chapter, he felt like he was reading about himself. About his friends. About how things, in moments of hardship, seemed hopeless — but that didn’t mean it couldn’t be fixed.

 

He found himself rereading the same page over and over again but the words weren’t sticking, and it wasn’t because he was exhausted. On the verge of a revelation, he sat back, head tipped up toward the ceiling, and forgot about the book in his lap, open and waiting for him to continue.

 

Maybe this was what everyone meant when they told him to stop. To take a break. To live his life as a 22-year-old and not some business owner. Being successful wasn’t making him any happier, but having his friends and Gladio by his side did.

 

Just like in his book, bonds were never broken beyond repair. All it took was one person to make the first step. While things with Gladio were different and would need a special kind of attention than what his fight with Noctis would need, Ignis knew he needed to start making amends.

 

At some point, preoccupied with his musings, Ignis drifted off to sleep, the book still in his lap and the light still on, and stayed asleep until his alarm startled him awake.

 

* * *

 

Noctis wasn’t due to arrive for a little while longer, but Ignis started without him. He almost wondered if Noctis would call out sick again, but with no one to be the medium between them, he figured that was unlikely. Plus, Noct wasn’t the type to just ‘no-call/no-show’, so Ignis had faith that he’d be there.

 

He was a bundle of nerves all morning waiting for his cousin to arrive, rehearsing repeatedly in his head how his apology would go. That came to a screeching halt when a key was inserted into the door and Noctis let himself in, wordlessly and without much fanfare. Ignis looked over his shoulder, expecting to come face-to-face with the brooding and sullen young man he’d always been used to, but no. This Noctis looked different. He had a glow about him that he didn’t have before. Even if he tried to hide his happiness, the sparkle in his eyes betrayed him.

 

Once Noctis put his belongings down in the back room, he came out and grabbed the other clipboard with an identical ‘Inventory’ page clipped to it, just like what Ignis had. “Hey.”

 

The way Noctis said this, under his breath and nervous, struck a chord with him, like he was waiting for Ignis to blow up for any little thing. Ignis really _had_ done a number on him. On everyone. “I don’t want to argue, Noctis,” he responded, pushing his glasses up after realizing they were falling down just enough to be uncomfortable. Still focused on his own sheet, he offered up a quiet, “Feeling better?” It was a piss-poor attempt at acting like he had no idea that Noctis had faked his illness.

 

“Yeah . . . you?”

 

The exchange was terse, leaving Ignis with an ache in the pit of his stomach. “I’ve been better, but I’ll be fine, Noctis.”

 

It was just like him to dismiss his own feelings for the sake of appeasing Noct. He never wanted to be a burden. Never wanted to put the spotlight on himself. Noctis didn’t need the stress of worrying about his cousin and Ignis didn’t want to _be_ that added stress.

 

The look that Noctis had on his face, though, was more than Ignis could bear. They were dancing around the giant elephant in the room, neither one knowing what to do next. So, with nothing else left to say at the moment, they buried themselves in counting everything within the walls of Stella’s, pretending that the mere presence of the other didn’t cause the hairs to prickle on the backs of their necks.

 

While Noctis continued to count everything one by one, Ignis snuck away to start some coffee for the both of them. He noticed the way Noctis’ eyes fought to stay open, how often he stifled a yawn, and he figured this would be a good way to break the ice.

 

He remembered how happy his cousin got when Prompto handed him another tooth-achingly sweet drink, so he tried to emulate that the best he could. Noct was picky as fuck, so he had that against him from the get-go. With enough cream, sweetener, and additives in it to turn it from dark brown to practically white, he shoved it into Noctis’ hands and said under his breath, “I added cream and syrup.” When Noctis gave him a _look_ , one that was a mix of confusion and mild panic that he’d fucked up somewhere along the way that morning, Ignis shook his head and explained. “Believe it or not, I’m not so self-absorbed that I don’t know what you like.”  
  
Noctis took the drink and stared down at it. Ignis opened his mouth to tell him it wasn’t poisoned but Noctis spoke first. “Ignis . . . Look . . .” He sighed, looking for the words to make everything better. “I’m sorry, Iggy.”

 

Ignis stilled, the apology unexpected. Noctis, preoccupied with swirling his drink, continued. “I didn’t want to fight. I just . . .” he trailed off.

 

No. No, this wasn’t his fault. Noct did nothing wrong and it was absurd of him to think he had any reason to apologize. Ignis had to interject. “I was . . . I was too hard on you, Noctis.” He leaned a hip against the counter, arms crossed. The words caught in his throat, but he forced them out nonetheless. “My apologies.”

 

The look that Noctis shot him was mildly amusing. His eyes widened, almost like he hadn’t expected Ignis to agree with him at all. Waiting for Noctis to continue his train of thought, Ignis reached for his own cup of coffee and sipped until, finally, Noctis shrugged. “Still shouldn’t have been a jerk about it . . . c’mon Specs . . . you’re ruining my great apology.” Ah, so he’d been thinking about this as well. “This was hard, y’know.”

 

Oh, did Ignis know. If Noctis knew how tormented he’d felt this week, knowing he’d been the sole factor in the fuckery that was Noctis’ life, maybe this apology would’ve gone a little different. It wasn’t nice of Ignis, what he did. Or fair. Or anything. He snorted. “I shan’t kill your moment, then. Apology accepted. Now,” he paused, gesturing to the entirety of Stella’s before bringing his own cup to his lips, “help me with this inventory?”

And that was that.

 

Or, so it seemed.

 

The way they fell in sync should’ve been enough to put Ignis at ease, but there were so many words left unsaid. He didn’t feel like their apologies were enough. Ignis needed to explain himself and explain why he was such a dick the last several weeks. Plus, there was the effervescent vibe emanating from the very pores of Noctis’ being and it was enough for Ignis to say something. “You’re in a good mood.”

When Noct blushed, Ignis knew he touched on something that really affected his friend. At first, he remained silent and Ignis was content to let him have his time. Then, Noct’s small voice — nearly missable — gushed, “I kissed Prompto.”

 

Bingo.

 

Instead of saying ‘I told you so’ or gloating in his face, Ignis shrugged. “Oh? Well . . . that’s unexpected,” he said, playing coy. Noctis may as well have said the sky was blue for how obvious his statement was.

 

“I mean, it’s not a big deal,” Noctis tried to cover up, stabbing his pen through his paper as he lost concentration on the task at hand. Ignis chuckled as Noctis cursed under his breath. It _was_ a big deal. It meant that the two idiots _finally_ figured their shit out. When Noct squeaked out a soft, “Right?”, Ignis knew he was looking for reassurance from him. Some sort of sign that things were ok, or _would be_ ok.

 

That was when Ignis put his clipboard down near the bags of coffee beans he was counting, closing his eyes and smirking before approaching Noctis — not as his cousin or employee, but as his closest friend. His brother.

 

Placing one hand on his shoulder, Ignis brought the younger man’s attention to him. “Noctis. I love you dearly. You’re family. Please, take no offense from this, but you two have been so painfully obvious about your feelings.” A chuckle escaped his lips. “Trust me when I say _everyone_ saw this coming.”

 

It was true. Seriously, the bet that floated around Stella’s — even to some of the customers — was proof of that. The exasperated groan from Noctis made Ignis smile, knowing full well how much he _hated_ feeling like he was the last to know this. Really, though . . . it wasn’t a far stretch to assume they’d eventually find their way.

 

“Ignis . . . come on,” Noctis began, groaning and rolling his eyes. “Don’t start . . .”

 

“Oh, I’m not starting anything. Merely stating the truth.”

 

It was unexpected, but the way that Ignis moved his other hand to rest easy on Noct’s other shoulder, shifting him just so he could hug him, was enough to bring all the emotions out that had previously laid dormant inside them. Honestly, it was the hug, an embrace, that Ignis needed more than he realized. The way Noct held onto him, fingers grabbing the back of Ignis’ shirt — like he needed him just as much — caused a rush of feelings to burst from deep inside them.

 

He missed Noct. Despite the back and forth between them and the fights they got into on a daily basis, he really fucking missed him. That was his _brother_. They’d grown up together. While standing there, hugging, it occurred to Ignis that they’d never even gone more than 24 hours without speaking to each other in some way, shape, or form, so this? This was definitely a first.

 

Moving a hand up to hold Noct’s head closer to his chest, Ignis halfway registered that both of them were tearing up. It was nearly indiscernible, but Noctis sniffled and that caused a ripple effect to Ignis as he held back a shaking breath.

Noctis grumbled into Ignis’ chest. “I swear, we’ll get our shit together,” referring to him and Prompto.

 

 _Oh, Noct,_ Ignis wanted to say. He had so many things he wanted to tell him, but he had no idea where to start. Like . . . like how this didn’t have a fucking thing to do with him and Prompto. Or Stella’s. Or anything. This was Ignis and his own hangups with Gladio. His own jealousy. His heartache. It was never about Noctis. Never. Still, he had to try and articulate some of those thoughts out loud. “I know,” he said. “Noctis . . . it’s . . . not about you and Prompto.”

When Noctis looked up, backing away and nonchalantly bringing a sleeve to the corners of his eyes, Ignis forced a smile and pretended not to notice the tears he wiped away. “What do you mean?” he sniffled. “It’s pretty clearly about me and Prom, dude. Unless . . . you’re referring to the whole ‘horribly overworked, in need of vacation’ thing, in which case . . . yeah . . . you’re right. That’s a problem.”.  
  
Ignis smiled again, glad to be on the right track toward reconciliation. “Oh, Noct. I can always count on you to be blunt, can’t I?”

 

He stopped, looking just over the top of Noctis’ head at something. Anything, really. Some sort of distraction. There was another long pause before Ignis divulged his inner-most secret, the words tumbling from his lips so suddenly that it even took him by surprise. “I miss Gladiolus.” Embarrassed by the sudden confession, cheeks red, he pulled away, grabbing the discarded clipboard on the counter and resuming his inventory counts.  
  
Hearing the words out loud, even from his own mouth, made everything feel so real. Before, he could easily deny that he felt anything toward Gladio. He could deny the relationship, deny his love, deny, deny, deny. Now that it was out there, verbalized? It just . . . hurt.

 

He felt Noctis’ gaze burn a hole into his back, making him uncomfortable. It felt even worse when he heard Noct say, “Is there anything I can do?”

 

He snorted, tears threatening to form again as he clenched his teeth to stave the onset of them, now more focused than ever on counting everything he could. One, two, three, four . . . on and on. He needed to keep busy. Keep focused. Keep his mind off of Gladio. There was nothing Noctis could do, so why even bother?

 

“Unless you can turn back time, I doubt that very much, Noct.” What Ignis _really_ wanted to say was, ‘ _No. I fucked up and I deserve everything I get for being a workaholic asshole,’_ but instead, he said, “I know you all gossip about my past with Gladio.” Another pause. “It’s accurate . . . the things you speculate.”

 

He was revealing more of himself now than he ever did in the last however many years, but there was something to be said about getting all of this off his chest. It didn’t feel _good_ , but maybe it was the start toward healing. It was high time he opened up and let _someone_ in about it. If he didn’t, he’d go insane soon enough.

 

Well, if work didn’t kill him first.  
  
Noct was catching on quickly, ticking off another box and writing a few numbers in the margin of his paper. “So . . . you’re not over him.”

 

 _No, I guess I’m not_ , Ignis admitted in his head, though he was sure he figured that out a long time ago.

 

“Why not just tell him??”

 

Well, _that_ was absurd. Ignis tried that after the snowstorm and it left him mortified when Gladio told him he was seeing Nyx. There was no way he was risking that sort of rejection again. Nope. Never again.

 

“Don’t be foolish, Noctis. He’s moved on,” he said in a far-off sort of way, almost like he was convincing himself of this fact. “I’d accomplish nothing from such a conversation. It’d only make me look pathetic.”

Ignis hoped he didn’t need to actually say out loud for him not to meddle. He was just ready to try and move on. Behind him, Noctis sighed. It seemed like he, also, realized there was nothing that could be done. Or, that was the illusion he was portraying. “I’m . . . sorry, Iggy. I really didn’t know.”

 

As much as Ignis appreciated Noct’s concern, it didn’t detract from the fact that this was how it was. Ignis was destined to be alone, doomed to a life of working and relegated to the notion that he failed at keeping Gladio happy. This was his fault. This was _all_ his fault. But before he could wallow in self-pity for much longer, the first customer of the morning dragged themselves in and the moment between Noct and Ignis vanished, Noctis greeting the customer as he left Ignis alone to count up their inventory.

 

* * *

 

It was late, but inventory was complete. Noctis was long gone, having left with Prompto — who dropped by to visit —  after his shift. It was like a weight had been lifted off of everyone’s shoulders, the darkness that enshrouded Stella’s for the last few weeks dissipating with Ignis handing over the new and improved schedule to Noctis and Prompto — an official olive branch to end things. Seeing the way that Noctis and Prompto lit up as soon as they realized they were back to working together some days during the week melted some of Ignis’ cold and icy heart. They were excited, things finally restored to how they were before.

 

While that was all good and well, Ignis still felt heavy in his mind and his heart. He was happy that he and Noctis were back on good terms, his best friend back in his life, but something was missing. There was a hole in his heart that, no matter what, would never heal.

 

He sighed, moving to sit in the back office so he could input all the numbers from their inventory into the computer. With the end of the year coming up, Ignis knew he needed to get everything — inventory, finances, plans for the future —  systemized. Then, he had to put in another order of coffees and teas and syrups and shit for delivery, work on renewing licenses and permits . . . the work never ended.

 

He must’ve been at work for hours, the clock reading just after 2:17 A.M., when a large banging at the front door startled him, his heart pounding in his chest. For a moment, Ignis debated just sitting in the back and waiting for the person to walk away. It wasn’t unheard of for drunks to wander the streets at this time of night, the bars having just closed as they looked for somewhere else to go for a bite to eat or for more alcoholic drinks.

 

When the banging didn’t let up, Ignis reached down for a dagger that he kept in a side drawer, ready to use it if he had to. Seriously, who the fuck would be trying to practically knock down the door at this hour? More banging, and Ignis was starting to think that Stella’s was about to get broken into and robbed.

 

“Iggy?? Are you in there??”

 

It was faint from where Ignis sat in the back room, but he recognized that low tone anywhere.

 

_Gladio._

 

He hesitated, wondering if maybe Ardyn — his least favorite customer in all of existence — had somehow learned the art of shapeshifting, taking on the persona of Gladio for sake of passing time (Ardyn did love to stop by at the most random of moments, especially this late), but that would be weird. That was something out of one of his books — it wasn’t something that could actually happen in real life.

 

“Iggy!”

 

Biting his lower lip, apprehensive, he stood up, replacing the dagger back in the drawer as he did so, and walked to the front, all the while wondering what brought him here. Now. Of all nights. At this hour.

 

What did he want?

 

When Ignis rounded the corner, he stopped at the sight of Gladio, one hand on the doorknob while the other was against the pane of glass after having hit it again to get his attention. It looked like it wanted to snow outside, a few flurries here and there trying to make their way to the ground. Gladio danced from side to side, trying to keep warm outside. “Ignis, please . . . please let me in,” he asked, muffled from the other side of the door.

 

Shaking himself from the shock of Gladio — _his_ Gladio — standing there, he moved to unlock the door and opened it cautiously. “What . . . are . . . Gladio, what are you doing here?? It’s late, you . . . you shouldn’t be here. You should go home . . . “

 

“Tell me something,” Gladio interrupted, his breathing shaky as he tried to control how winded and cold he sounded. He looked like he’d ran from Bahamut’s straight here without stopping. “Is it true?? Tell me that Noctis wasn’t lying, please.”

 

“What?!”

 

Gladio couldn’t look more serious, or desperate, if he tried and that terrified Ignis. Where the hell was this coming from?

 

“Ignis . . . tell me that Noctis wasn’t lying and that you still miss me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHHHHHHHHH AHHHHHHHHHH YAYYYYYY SO CLOSE!! :D IS THIS IT?? IS THIS THE MOMENT?! :D
> 
> (Also HUGE props to Moonside for the dialogue of this chapter between Noctis and Ignis <3 )
> 
> Thank you all so much for all the love and support you give me and Moonside with every new chapter. Please, please, please come scream with us on twitter and tumblr! You can find me there with under the same name as here :D
> 
> See you guys soon! <3


	11. The Sun Came Up

“Ignis . . . tell me that you still miss me.”

 

He blinked, stunned. He didn’t know what to say or if this was some weird, elaborate prank that Noct and Prompto were trying to pull after everything that Ignis had put them through this week. Or, maybe this was a dream. A fucked up, twisted dream where he’d wake up in ten minutes and be all alone in his bedroom.

 

Squeezing his eyes closed, then opening them, then close, and open again did nothing.

 

Nope. This was real. So very real.

 

“Gladio . . . where did . . . did Noct . . . ”

 

Gladio waved his hands up, stopping Ignis from speaking before he, apparently, chickened out. Despite his obvious nerves, Ignis couldn’t tear his gaze away from the behemoth of a man as he stammered, looking for the right words. Noctis was _just_ at Stella’s . . . when had he found the time to speak to Gladio?

 

Ignis mentally kicked himself for not making it explicitly obvious that Noctis mind his own damn business when they reconciled earlier.  

 

Gladio pushed his glasses up higher on his nose, then wrapped his olive leather jacket tighter around himself. “Noct said . . . he told me . . . he came by and said . . .” He huffed and rolled his eyes. “Look, I’m done playing this game. I don’t . . . fuck, Ignis. I . . . I don’t want to do this anymore, ok?? I don’t want to be without you. I hate it. I’m miserable. I’m going through the motions every day and it’s killing me to come back to my place and not see you there. I wake up every fucking morning and you’re not in bed with me. I still go to text you and have to remind myself that we’re not together.” A pause as he figured out what to say next. “When Noct and Prom came by tonight . . . they, uh . . . they told me how you missed us. Missed me . . . which is funny because I thought, after you left with that Ravus guy the other night — and with everything here and with Nyx — that was your way of officially closing the door on us.

 

“And, to be fucking honest, I thought they were joking and I brushed it off. But . . . the more I thought about it while working, the more I realized that I miss you. I really fucking miss you. I miss my better half, before all of this —” he vaguely gestured to Stella’s “ — changed us. I just . . . I love you. I love you so much and I know I’m probably out of line coming here and I’m sorry, but after seeing you lately and all this shit we’re putting ourselves through, I needed to give it a shot. I want to fight for you and for us if you’ll let me . . . and I hope you’ll do the same. So . . . yeah. I miss you. I miss you so fucking much that it hurts every goddamn day, Ignis.”

 

Ignis didn’t say a word, his mouth pressed into a thin, straight line. This was so much more than he could take right now, hearing the words and trying to wade through the emotions he was drowning in. Here was his chance to make things right, to speak up for fucking once, but this was just too surreal. Where could he begin? How could he articulate just how much it killed him to know he never stopped Gladio from leaving that night? That he, too, lost hours upon hours of sleep because he was too busy tossing and turning over the thought of Gladio somewhere else? WIth someone else? Not in bed with him? Not laughing or talking or _anything_ with him?

 

He replayed the moment of their breakup again and again in his head — a movie he couldn’t seem to stop if he tried. There were so many different scenarios he had conjured up where he won Gladio back, but after getting shot down that one day, it completely ruined any and all hopes he had of putting those scenarios and ideas into motion.

 

Yet, here was his chance, right here and now, and he stood like a wild animal caught in headlights.

 

Gladio seemed to take his silence for rejection, stepping back several steps, a chasm between them. “You know what? This was a bad idea. You’re busy and this was a huge mistake. I’m sorry I wasted your time.”

 

_No. No! Don’t go! Stop. Stop!!_

 

Ignis was a thinker. A planner. He wasn’t impulsive or reckless in his decisions, no matter what the occasion called for. It was honestly a blessing and a curse for him. However, his actions as he lunged, pulling Gladio back, standing up on his tiptoes to press his lips hard to Gladio’s, absolutely contradicted that. There was no thought process, only that he had to reciprocate Gladio’s confession in some way, shape, or form, even if that meant doing so with actions instead of words. Gladio, however, didn’t seem to mind as he eagerly opened his mouth to Ignis’ tongue, pushing him back into Stella’s and slamming the door behind him.

 

It all happened so fast. With every step that Gladio took, it was another step backward for Ignis. Still, he trusted Gladio all the same to guide him to where he wanted — needed — him to go, long fingers curling around the back of the larger man’s neck to pull him in closer. Both stopped as Ignis reached the counter, his lower back bumping against it lightly. The cafe was dark, the lights off from when Ignis shut everything down before he went into the back office to work. The only lights that shone in were the ones from the streetlamps and the illuminated signs on various buildings around them.

 

Gladio moved his kisses away from Ignis’ mouth, down his neck, tugging the collar of his shirt away from his shoulder for better access to his collarbone. Ignis moaned, leaning his head to the side and not giving a fuck as Gladio sucked a mark on his pale skin.

 

There was a moment of clarity when he felt Gladio’s broad hands under his shirt, grazing and touching at the muscles of his abdomen. His chest. Brushing against his nipples. Then, when the imposition of the shirt became too much, Gladio pulled the shirt up and over Ignis’ head, discarding it somewhere to the side. Following suit, Ignis forced Gladio to shrug off his jacket, landing heavy on the floor with his tank top stripped from his chest right after.

 

Ignis rolled his hips, pleased to feel Gladio’s hard arousal pressing eagerly against the inside of his jeans. He went to cup him through his jeans, mouth-watering with palpable desire, but was sorely disappointed when Gladio pulled back, reaching to stop Ignis’ hand. There was the fleeting fear that maybe Gladio had gotten his wits about himself, realized that this was a mistake and was going to excuse himself, but no. Instead, the very breath left his lungs at the sight of Gladio kneeling down, undoing Ignis’ belt buckle with little grace — a sure sign that he was equally nervous and desperate to show Ignis how much he wanted him. Whining, Ignis tried to hold himself up with one hand on the counter as Gladio reached into Ignis’ boxer briefs, pulling his cock out, a pearl of come already forming at the head.

 

With a heady moan, Ignis dared to look down, gasping and gripping harder around the edge of the counter with every slow, teasing pull from base to tip, Gladio’s mouth hovering so close that Ignis wanted to scream in frustration.

 

The whimpering and long sighs distracted Gladio and he looked up, catching Ignis’ sharp stare. Ignis couldn’t even see the color of Gladio’s eyes anymore, pupils blown back with a wanton lust that he hadn’t been lucky enough to witness in what felt like forever. Without breaking that eye contact, Ignis felt the heat of Gladio’s mouth wrap around the length of his dick, taking him to the back of his throat.

 

It was embarrassing to hear the sounds coming from his own mouth. How Gladio managed to know just what to do to elicit the cries and moans from him, Ignis would never know, but _fuck_ if he didn’t love it.

 

The way he licked up the underside of his cock, swollen red and achingly hard as it sat heavy on his tongue. The way one hand moved in time with his mouth, saliva and come slicking up and down his shaft, the other massaging and kneading Ignis’ exposed thigh. That hand dragging to cup his balls, squeezing lightly, before reaching around to tease his entrance.

 

Gladio’s intermittent humming vibrated and sparked every sensitive nerve. No words could describe how blissed-out Ignis felt in that moment, his fingertips white the harder he gripped to the countertop, fighting to stay standing. Between that, the lewd, smacking sounds of Gladio’s lips and tongue on delicate skin, and the barely-there intrusion of his finger, Ignis was tightly wound and ready to unravel any second now.

 

He didn’t want to finish yet.  

 

He wanted more. So much more.

 

Gladio must’ve sensed this —  the sudden change in demeanor from vocalized euphoria to the forced quiet brought on by his internal struggle to hold back his urge to come —  because he stopped, breathless. “You ok?”

 

Nodding, then changing his mind and shaking his head, Ignis ran a hand through Gladio’s hair, tugging on the hair tie that held the dark strands away from his face. “I want you inside me. Right now.”

 

Gladio sat back. “Here?? Now?? Shit, Iggy . . . we don’t have _anything_ here that could —”

 

Ignis knew where his thought process was headed, already several steps ahead. “Office drawer.” Gladio cocked his head, scrunching his face in confusion until Ignis continued, gesturing generally to a spot behind him. “Remember? The night we . . . we . . . ah . . . behind the counter? Before Stella’s opened?”

 

“Oh . . . _Ohhhhh_.”

 

If this was a cartoon or a comical movie, a literal lightbulb would’ve lit up just above Gladio’s head as he remembered the night Ignis referred to. He scrambled to his feet, practically running to the back office where Ignis alluded he kept the items, noisy clattering and commotion as drawers were yanked open and various office supplies and papers were thrown to the ground.

 

A triumphant cry and Gladio returned with a box of condoms and the lube. “Alright, got ‘em!” he smiled. Before Ignis could hold a hand out for them, say a few words, or even smile back, Gladio tossed the items to the side on the counter and scooped him up, plopping him on the counter in one fluid motion.

 

Once the initial shock of getting picked up and placed on the counter wore off, Ignis toed out of his shoes, reached down to remove his socks, and kicked his pants off as well. The surface was cold on his skin, but somehow the heat of everything completely made up for it. Gladio flicked the cap of the lubricant open, slicking his fingers as Ignis opened his legs up more to him, granting him better access.

 

“Someone’s impatient. I’m going as fast as I can here,” Gladio joked. When Ignis opened his mouth to argue, Gladio stopped him by kissing him, pulling his lower lip with his teeth. That, indeed, shut Ignis right up.

 

Then, Gladio migrated his lips to the point between Ignis’ neck and shoulder, right where the mark Gladio sucked on him was.

 

Another nip at the bones of his collar. His jaw. Gladio’s stubble scratching against him.

 

Gladio’s calloused fingers found their way to Ignis, one sliding in with little restraint. “Oh . . . _fuck, Gladio_ ,” he hissed, falling forward so his forehead made hard contact with the larger man’s shoulder. The drag of his finger pulling out felt even more glorious, if that was at all possible, before he thrust it back in.

 

_More. Please, more. I need you._

 

Ignis thought those words were only spoken in his head, but he must’ve said them aloud because Gladio chuckled, kissing his temple. “Yeah? You like that? Want another?”

 

He didn’t even get a chance to answer before a second finger was thrust inside, curling and searching for the spot that would surely cause Ignis to scream. Panting, sweat already forming on his skin, Ignis dug his dulled nails into the muscle of Gladio’s shoulder. His upper arm. Clawing at the tattoo that adorned the spanse of Gladio’s back.

 

Then, when he added a third finger, stretching him further, Ignis bit down, his teeth leaving indents in Gladio’s skin. He tried to muffle the obscene noises he was making by burying his face into Gladio’s chest and neck, but it was no use.

 

Besides, it wasn’t like anyone was around to hear them.

 

“You look fucking amazing like this, you know?”

 

All Ignis could do in response was to lean back, hips jerking upward to take Gladio’s finger’s deeper. He managed to choke out a request that vaguely sounded like, “Stop,” but it was more garbled nonsense than anything. Gladio knew, though — he always did — and slipped his fingers out, immediately unbuttoning his own jeans, stepping out of them and his shoes.

 

Gladio standing there, only the lights of the city there to illuminate him, was truly a sight to behold. The vulnerability Ignis felt — both men naked and flushed as he sat exposed on the counter while Gladio scrabbled for the box of condoms he threw down before — terrified him in the best way. The rush of the thrill, the lust, and the passion, was exhilarating.

 

But, most importantly, Ignis hoped this was truly a new beginning for them. In the midst of his thoughts, Gladio had reached over to take a condom out of the box, ripping the wrapper open and sliding it on. Slicking his cock with the lube, he pulled Ignis closer and gestured for him to wrap his legs around him.

 

“You have . . . _no idea_ . . . how much I missed you,” he whispered, his eyes so full of love that it made Ignis’ heart burst in his chest.

 

“I dare say I can venture a guess.”

 

As their lips crashed together in another heated, passionate kiss, Gladio pushed into Ignis until he was buried as far as he could go. That full feeling, the burn and the stretch of Gladio inside him tore Ignis apart at the seams. He had to pull away from the kiss, desperate for air as he cursed and cried out for the gods. Gladio’s hand supported Ignis’ upper back as he leaned backward, reduced to nothing but a babbling idiot.

 

In this moment, Ignis felt complete — alive once more.

 

Everything narrowed, both him and Gladio the only people left on this planet. Gladio fucked him harder and harder while Ignis locked his legs tighter around Gladio’s midsection, eyes closed. It was impossible to even formulate words, thoughts, or anything outside of the occasional, ‘Fuck’, ‘Please’, and Gladio’s name. Ignis knew he sounded licentious, crying out with wild abandon, but it was that lack of restraint that urged Gladio on, an unsaid plea to show him, without words, what they’d missed out on in their time apart.

 

Every so often, Gladio paused to press a kiss to Ignis’ forehead, capturing his mouth with his and moaning loudly as he fucked harder. With how quiet it was outside, not a single soul around, it only amplified the noises they made, skin against skin, quiet murmurs of praises and names and love.

 

They were close, both of them. The way Ignis tensed up, holding on for dear life, while Gladio slowly lost his rhythm, urged them on further. He snaked a hand between them, stroking himself as Gladio’s hips stuttered, fingers digging and bruising Ignis’ thigh. Come seeped from the head of Ignis’ cock, making a slippery mess down his length and in his hand.

 

Oh, but it felt good. So fucking good.

 

“Come for me, Gladio. _Please_ , come for me,” Ignis panted.

 

As if on command, Gladio toppled over the edge into unabashed pleasure. Ignis watched as he came undone in front of him, eyes closed and jaw slackened, using that very image to finish as well. The sweet taste of orgasm on the tip of his tongue, pinpricks of white exploding behind his eyes, Ignis moaned Gladio’s name over and over again, leaning up to pull him into a deep, passionate, open-mouthed kiss. Hot come splashed between them, on Gladio’s stomach and all over Ignis’ hand, both finally slowing down as they came off the high of their orgasm.

 

Gladio’s cock twitched and softened as he pulled out, leaving Ignis feel empty and, all of a sudden, so cold. It wasn’t long-lived, however, as Gladio kissed him again, innocent and pure. Without any tongue or the lustrous emotion behind it, Ignis reached down and tugged at Gladio’s hand, lacing his fingers with his.

 

When Gladio pulled away, Ignis’ eyes were still closed, glasses askew and smudged from their rendezvous. “I . . . I love you.”

 

There was that incredibly awkward moment that Ignis dreaded. The one that made him want to run into the back office, lock the door, and not come out until Gladio left. Then, Gladio smiled and squeezed tighter to Ignis’ hand, kissing his knuckles, then turning his hand so he could kiss into his open palm.

 

“I love you too, Iggy . . . I love you, and I really missed the fuck out of you.”

 

* * *

 

 

Ignis was so fucking thankful that he’d hired someone to really deep-clean the floors earlier in the week.

 

The two managed to clean themselves up and eventually found themselves on the floor behind the counter, sitting and laying on the pile of their clothes. Tomorrow would, no doubt, be a shitshow of a shift when Ignis would come in — it was so fucking late — but he didn’t want this to end. He dreamed of this moment, of this night, for far too long. The reconciliation and the makeup sex made the inevitable exhaustion tomorrow worth it.

 

With his pants over his hips to grant him some decency, he laid with his head in Gladio’s lap, relaxed as Gladio played with his hair.

 

“I will have to reprimand Noctis for this, you know,” he mumbled idly, more just thinking out loud than anything. “While it was partially my fault for admitting anything at all . . . I . . . uh . . . still. It was not his place to run to you the first chance he could.”

 

“Oh, settle down, Iggy,” Gladio laughed, brushing a hair from his forehead. “I think we owe him a huge thanks for what he did. Both him _and_ Prom.”

 

The floor was hard and not at all comfortable, but Ignis didn’t want to move. This felt right. It felt like the part of his heart that had gone missing was finally back. Shifting so he could see Gladio’s face, he reached a hand up and stroked a thumb along the stubble of his jawline, a familiar feeling he’d missed. “I suppose you’re right.”

 

It was a gentle caress, one that caused Gladio’s eyes to shutter close as he leaned into Ignis’ hand. Every once in a while, a passing car would drive by outside, but other than that it was complete and total silence, the two nestled behind the counter.

 

After shifting again, trying to get comfortable on the tile of the floor, Ignis heard Gladio snicker. “Not comfy? Maybe it’s about time we get dressed. I can help you lock up and then I’ll walk you . . .” he faded off, a tinge of sadness in his voice. “I’ll walk you home.”

 

 _Home_.

 

It wasn’t home with Gladio. The night he left, that key abandoned on the counter, was one of the worst nights of Ignis’ life. Coming back to that apartment alone at the end of a long day was torture. He didn’t want to do it anymore.

 

It really had been long enough since this entire thing began. Maybe the saying, ‘You don’t know what you have until it’s gone’, _was_ true. Somewhere along the way, Ignis lost sight of what was really important. It took Gladio leaving — and all the bullshit in between then and now — for him to realize that the success of Stella’s wasn’t the be all, end all of things. Having the best coffee shop in Insomnia meant jack shit if he wasn’t happy.

 

And, honestly, he was happiest when Gladio was there by his side.

 

He wanted Gladio _home_.

 

There was an unmistakable expression of surprise on the man’s face as Ignis suddenly sat up, pursing his lips as he looked over his shoulder. “Come home.”

 

His forehead creased as his eyebrows shot up. “Uh . . . Iggy?”

 

“I can’t . . . I can’t go through life anymore without you. I should’ve stopped you from walking out the night we ended things and I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it every night since. Gladio . . . please . . . come home.”

 

There wasn’t even a second of hesitancy. Gladio’s eyes lit up and he bent forward to kiss Ignis’ bare shoulders, tilting his head so he could plant a kiss on his lips. “Best words I’ve heard in a long time.”

 

“Yes?” Ignis asked, wanting to know that he heard correctly.

 

“Yeah! C’mon, let’s go . . . let’s go home.”

 

With clothes thrown on in a haphazard fashion, the two locked up Stella’s behind them and practically ran, skipped, and laughed the entire way back to Ignis’ apartment. They made love one more time before finally falling asleep in each other’s arms.

 

It was the best sleep either one had in months.

 

* * *

  


When Ignis woke up, it was to the smell of breakfast and coffee in the kitchen. He extracted himself from the sheets and comforter, floating to the kitchen where Gladio manned the stove fastidiously. Ignis slipped his arms around Gladio from behind, kissing his back and breathing his presence in.

 

“I love you, Gladio.”

 

He could practically feel the smile those three powerful words brought to Gladio’s face. “I love you too, Iggy. Now, let’s have some breakfast before you head to work.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> YAY!! :)
> 
> ONE MORE CHAPTER. WE HAVE ONE MORE CHAPTER AND I AM SAD THIS IS COMING TO AN END <3 Seriously, writing this with Moonside has been such a blast and was such an amazing way to kick off this year. But we'll save that sentimentality for the next chapter :)
> 
> We love you all so much and I know I say it every time, but we can't thank you all enough for all the screaming and the love you've given us. THANK YOU!!!
> 
> See you guys soon!


	12. Good.

It was Ignis’ idea for the two of them to take a vacation.

 

“Gladio,” he piped up after a tiring day of moving the man’s belongings back into the apartment. Stoic and calm, Ignis looked at Gladio like he was about to ask about the weather, or what he wanted for dinner. He couldn’t appear more impassive if he tried. “I believe we should go away for the holidays.”

 

Gladio, hunched over a half-unpacked box, straightened up immediately and widened his eyes in surprise. “I’m sorry, who are you and what have you done with Ignis?”

 

Ignis chuckled, shrugging. He may as well have asked for a million dollars, or something equally insane. Ignis didn’t take vacations. He just _didn’t_. But, that was the Ignis before — the one who lost everything. That Ignis only cared about perfection and ensuring that Stella’s was always the best. That Ignis put loved ones and friends last compared to all else.

 

Ignis didn’t want to go back to those dark days. The morning after they reconciled, he made it very clear to Gladio that he was set on taking several steps back from Stella’s in order to live a little. He would do whatever it took to get there — starting with a spontaneous vacation.

 

“I don’t see any better way to celebrate the end of the year and the rekindling of our relationship than a trip to Galdin Quay, the very place we found each other again.”

 

Gladio’s face twisted, a flash of something akin to guilt in his eyes. Although Ignis assured Gladio many times that week that he truly was ready to turn over a new leaf, he knew the only way Gladio would believe that would be through his actions — not just words. The Gladio that stood in front of him now, boxes of his belongings scattered throughout the living room, was rightfully hesitant. It would take time, but Ignis was willing to work for that trust again. “Iggy . . . you know we don’t have to go away. Don’t plan anything big on my account. We can have dinner or something, you know? I know Stella’s is —”

 

“Stella’s isn’t going anywhere,” Ignis interrupted, holding a hand up, effectively silencing Gladio. “As it were, I have put quite a lot of consideration into handing the keys over to Noctis in the meantime. I feel I owe it to him to put my faith and utmost trust in him, as he’s more than deserved it. I believe he could run Stella’s with minimal issues while we’re gone. This would be a good opportunity for him to shine.”

 

Nudging the box to the side with his toe, Gladio took several large steps to stand in front of Ignis, reaching for his hands. His thumb brushed back and forth over the tops of Ignis’ hands, a slight swing back and forth in their arms. “I get it; really, I do. I just don’t want you to feel forced to — “

 

“I don’t feel forced to do anything, Gladiolus.” Ignis’ voice was stern. “I made Stella’s my life for far too long, and it got me nowhere. I am not about to walk down that path again. Not after you’ve given me this second chance.”

 

“Heh, well . . . it wasn’t so hard when I missed you as much as I did.”

 

Ignis leaned up, pulling Gladio into a warm, sweet kiss for several long, beautiful seconds. When they broke apart, Gladio rested his forehead against Ignis’ and sighed. “Are you sure? You really want to go away?”

 

“Without a shadow of a doubt. I want this more than anything . . . Unless, that is, you have prior obligations? It is the holiday season, after all, and I would hate to pull you away from familial traditions for the sake of vacationing with me.”

 

“Nah,” Gladio shook his head, squeezing Ignis’ hand one more time. “Just another year of my Old Man, Iris, and I at Noct’s dad’s place. I think they can miss me this one time.”

 

Ignis smiled, excited as butterflies fluttered in his stomach at the prospect of a true vacation with Gladio. “Well then, it’s settled.”

* * *

 

 

The sun beat down, hot and unrelenting, but Ignis basked in its rays without a single care, his book open as Gladio surfed not too far off the shoreline.

 

They’d arrived just a few days earlier at Galdin Quay. When Ignis asked Noct to please look after Stella’s in his absence, Noctis couldn’t have looked more shocked at the request. After all, it wasn’t like Ignis to ask _anyone_ to watch the cafe for more than five minutes, let alone for a week — or two, if he really felt like it.

 

Then, for Ignis to say it was because he was getting away with Gladiolus Amicitia — yet another bombshell revelation — as the reason? Well, Noctis and Prompto didn’t look like they could possibly recover from all these tidbits of new information. They teased Ignis for reconciling with Gladio (“Iggy got laid!” Prompto had oh-so-cheerfully exclaimed), congratulating him several times before declaring that yes, Noct absolutely would watch Stella’s in Ignis’ stead and Prompto would help.

 

Ignis even made the executive decision to leave his phone behind while he was gone. It was a big step for him, but once he sat down and thought about it, Ignis reasoned this was best. If Noctis, Prompto, or _anyone_ needed them, Gladio would have his own phone nearby. Other than that, there really was no other reason Ignis would need his — unless he wanted to exercise his willpower in not checking in every five minutes.

 

The room they reserved was the finest room the resort had to offer — it overlooked the water, wide, sliding glass doors opening to a expansive balcony with a cute dinette set outside for them to sit at and enjoy their morning coffee. Upon entering their room, both Ignis and Gladio dropped their stuff on the floor and grinned, giggling excitedly as they explored the room was easily bigger than Ignis’ entire apartment.

 

As nice as the room was, neither man spent much time in it during the day, instead choosing to head out to the beach and relax — exactly how Ignis was enjoying his time now, toes buried in the warm sand under an umbrella while Gladio surfed not too far away.

 

No finances. No talks of customers. No coffee orders — lest it was one he was placing at the espresso bar for himself and Gladio in the mornings. Just him and Gladio with no other plans and nowhere else to be except to enjoy each other’s company the entire week.

 

Every once in a while he’d break away from tales of princes and friends fighting hobo villains, looking up to search for Gladio in the water, oftentimes smiling at how lucky he was to be here. Ignis was so entranced by his own thoughts, his ruminations about how he got here with Gladio, that he didn’t even notice the object of said thoughts running up to him, board tucked under his arm. “Iggy! You ok? I’ve been calling your name for like like the last minute or so.”

 

Ignis jumped, shielding his eyes with one hand while looking up at Gladio. “Yes, sorry. Just admiring the view,” he said with a devilish lilt.

 

Placing the board off to the side, Gladio settled for a spot in the sand next to Ignis, his arms resting on his bended knees. Watching the way the water trailed down Gladio’s back, dripping from loose strands of hair and puddling on the sand under him, was intoxicating to Ignis. What he wouldn’t give to drag his tongue up those abdominals right now, tasting salt and skin. He wanted to loop his fingers inside the waistline of his board shorts, the wet fabric clinging to hard, taut muscle . . .

 

“ . . . You sure you’re ok??”

 

Ignis blinked several times, only to realize that Gladio had been having a one-sided conversation. He must’ve asked a question or noticed the far-off stare of Ignis daydreaming because he frowned, worried. Ignis shut his book. “I’m fine, Gladio. Why?”

 

“Nothing, I was just asking you if you’re having fun. Then, I look over and you’re all,” he stopped, mimicking the same, dopey expression that Ignis wore on his face.

 

Ignis laughed. “I assure you, I’m having a great time. This is exactly what I needed. It seems I’ve forgotten what the world is like outside of the four walls of Stella’s. I’m happy I have you here to to remind me.”

 

“Yeah, well, I’m just happy I’m here with _you_ . I’ve waited a long time for us to come back. Nothing like the smell of the beach and the feeling of salt water, hm? And to think, coming here was _your_ idea,” Gladio quipped, nudging Ignis with his elbow. “I don’t think you’ve ever looked more relaxed. I wish we could stay here forever and not have to go back. It’s going to really suck when this vacation’s over.”

 

To Gladio, it was a silly, off-handed comment. Ignis rationally knew that Gladio understood they couldn’t _not_ go back to Insomnia. There was something about that comment, though, that made Ignis freeze. An anxiety about a situation he hadn’t thought about surged through him, a sudden illness settling in his stomach. Gladio, on the other hand, was none the wiser as he sighed happily — or with destitute resignation, Ignis wondered — flashing a smile that could rival the brightness of the sun before getting up to wade in the water some more.

 

It was an innocent remark, but Ignis’ panicked. Eventually, they’d _have_ to go back. What would happen when they did? Would Ignis fall back into his set ways of all work and no play? Would Gladio see this was all a huge mistake and walk away for good? Ignis had been determined to change, but what if it was just the thrill and joy of rekindling their romance that made everything seem so easy right now? Once all of that wore off, the shiny newness of it all, would they just have the bandaged ruins of what they tried to piece together from their failed relationship?

 

Ignis bit the inside of his cheek, observing Gladio as he stood at the shoreline, taking in the scenery. Gladio was, without a doubt, the love of his life. Someone like Gladio deserved the world and whatever he desired. He deserved _everything_ . What he _didn’t_ deserve was someone like Ignis who struggled to manage a healthy balance between a work life and a personal life. True, it had only been a week — not long enough to accurately foresee how things would turn out — but the notion of losing Gladio again after getting back home and into their regular routine?

 

It was enough to plant the seed of fear inside of him.

 

* * *

 

“Alright, Iggy; what’s the matter?”

 

They were at dinner later that night, dressed in nice pants and buttoned shirts. An ocean breeze cut through the humid air, rustling their hair and making for a comfortable evening. The ambiance exuded romance with the candles placed on the table and the lights down low. Murmurs and whispers from other tables, punctuated by occasional clinking and clattering of silverware and plates, created what should’ve been a relaxing atmosphere.

 

Ignis, however, couldn’t stop thinking. He couldn’t get out of his head long enough to enjoy the food in front of him, instead choosing to push green beans around from one end of the plate to the other. When Gladio called for him, a soft twinkle in his eyes, Ignis put his fork down and dabbed the corners of his mouth, prolonging the silence.

 

“It’s nothing,” he lied at first.

 

Gladio rolled his eyes, a sign that he knew full well that Ignis was far from telling the truth. “Uh-huh. C’mon, spill it.”

 

After several more agonizing seconds of Ignis waiting for Gladio to give up, he frowned and brought his hands to his lap, fumbling and playing with his napkin. “If you must know, I . . . I’m afraid.”

 

Gladio, having taken a sip of his wine while Ignis found the words to convey what was on his mind, immediately put the glass down. Ignis took note of the way he scrunched his nose, trying to make sense of this sudden confession, as just another bullet-point on the long list of reasons why he loved Gladio and found him utterly adorable, for lack of better words at this point. “What? What are you afraid of? I thought you said everything was ok?”

 

A noncommittal shrug of his shoulders, and suddenly Ignis was feeling small as he regretted even saying anything at all. In the spirit of honesty, though, he swallowed thickly and muscled through his anxiety to communicate to Gladio what he was worried about. “Well . . . while I have enjoyed our trip thus far, I have half a mind to wonder what will happen when we get home.”

 

“I don’t understand. Are you . . . is this — “

 

“Oh! Oh, no, Gladio! Astrals no, I’m not getting cold feet, if that is where your mind is headed. Absolutely not! No, I worry that . . .” Ignis took a long drink of wine, praying that the little amount left in his glass would maybe give him the liquid courage he needed. When it came to emotions like this, he was more awkward than he appeared. Their server walked by and Ignis motioned for another round. “I worry that it . . . it will be _you_ that comes to your senses and walks away.”

 

Gladio raised an eyebrow. “Why would you say that? Why would you _think_ that?”

 

This was getting really uncomfortable now, but, if Ignis knew Gladio as well as he thought he did, he wasn’t going to leave Ignis alone until everything was out there on the table. It was just another thing that Ignis loved (but maybe sort of hated in this second, curse him) about Gladio.  “Has it not crossed your mind that I’ll just fall back into old habits? It’s not exactly that absurd of a theory that I’ll . . . Gladio, what if this is just who I am? What if I’ll _always_ be someone who puts more emphasis on work and business than what is necessary?”

 

The server from earlier reappeared with two full glasses of wine, placing them between the two men in the middle of the table. When assured that they didn’t need anything else, the server bowed and walked away, leaving Gladio’s strong gaze lingering on Ignis again. Ignis looked up over the rims of his glasses, expecting to see anger. Regret. An expression of mockery.

 

He didn’t see any of that.

 

Instead, a comforting hand was extended, passed the wine glasses, gesturing for Ignis’ hand to hold. “Iggy, being someone who throws themselves into working _is_ who you are. You were like that all through school. To be honest, after dad shipped me off, it was your work ethic and shit that kept me motivated, ok? Fuck, you probably don’t remember, but you were definitely a budding workaholic as a kid, too.  I’m pretty sure our entire elementary class hated you when you when you aced every spelling test, turned in every homework assignment . . . need I go on?”

 

Ignis stifled a laugh and Gladio continued. “I love you because you work hard. I love you because you have goals and dreams and aspirations. Don’t think for one second that I, or Noct, or Prom, or anyone want you to change that about yourself. We just want you to live like you have been the last week or so — like there’s a life outside of work and that it’s ok to take time for yourself . . . or for others.”

 

“That’s fine and well, but what if things go back to how they were? I don’t know if I can stand to lose you again because I can’t figure out how to balance my life,” Ignis asked, pushing his glasses up higher on his nose with his free hand.

 

Gladio gave a knowing wink. “You have me to help you out and to knock some goddamn sense into you. Noct and Prom are there, too. You can lean on us and trust us to take some of that load off. So, please — let us help you. Let _me_ help you.”

 

Hearing how committed Gladio was to making this work — if not more than how committed Ignis was — made everything hopeful. Ignis wasn’t in this alone. No, he had Gladio by his side to help along the way. It wouldn’t get fixed overnight, but they had hindsight vision and the knowledge of what _not_ to do to guide them in the direction of a successful relationship. Ignis knew then he had nothing to fear. They would be ok.

 

Although they were tucked away in a table away from the rest of the restaurant, Ignis found it too crowded now. He wanted to retreat to the privacy of their room, where they could be alone just the two of them. “Gladio, what say we take these glasses of wine back to our room and enjoy them on our balcony? We can talk more there if you’d like?”

 

The way Gladio looked at Ignis, like he was the only one in the world, the only one that mattered, made him beam. Gladio collected himself, pulling his hand away and clearing his throat. Ignis got his answer when Gladio raised a hand for their server, signaling for the check.

 

* * *

 

They barely made it across the threshold before they tangled themselves in each other, the suggestion of drinking their wine on the balcony a hazy memory.

 

They worked fast to strip each other of their clothes, all the way down to their underwear as Gladio fell back onto the bed, taking Ignis down with him. Of course, they’d fucked many times that week, but for some reason this felt different. It was almost as if there was an unspoken promise underneath the passion and ardor — behind every heartfelt, all-consuming, frenzied kiss. Together, they reignited a fire, one that could never be extinguished. Before, they naively scoffed at the notion of falling apart, always saying nothing would ever happen to them. Now, they were strong. They were willing to fight back and prove their love, starting here and now.

 

Ignis straddled him, grinding his hips and moaning into their kiss every time his cock met Gladio’s, hard against his thigh. When the barrier of the fabric was infuriatingly restricting, Ignis pulled away just long enough to remove his underwear, then Gladio’s. Normally, they would’ve taken their time to play with each other, explore bodies with their mouths and fingertips while maybe uttering a few phrases here and there, but Ignis needed Gladio — almost as much as Gladio needed him, it seemed.

 

He took off his glasses, right about the same time that Gladio took off his, both tossing them onto the nightstand as Ignis reached for the lube and a condom. Despite the lack of lights on in the room, the glow of the moon created enough light for Ignis to see the way Gladio looked at him through hooded eyes. A red flush bloomed over his chest and up his neck while his cock laid heavy against him, smearing come just under his stomach. The only thought in Ignis’ head at that moment was how fucking lucky he was to have Gladiolus Amicitia under him.

 

More than that, more than having Gladio _under_ him, he wanted Gladio _inside_ him. He wanted to feel every inch of his cock filling him until he begged for mercy, over and over again until he was spent, left panting and unable to move. It was a need so great, so strong, that Ignis was unsure if there was anything else in the world that could pull him away. Not even the powerful and merciless gods could barge in and drag him from this room if they tried.

 

He made a mess of the lube as he opened it, pouring more than necessary over his fingers as some dripped onto Gladio. Without another word, Ignis made quick work of thrusting his fingers inside of himself, desperate to make his body ready for Gladio.

 

Of course, Gladio loved the show and the way Ignis fucked himself on his fingers, judging by the way his Adam's apple bobbed with every forced swallow and how he scrabbled for the condom that Ignis put next to them, rolling it on. Then, Ignis felt himself being pulled down to meet Gladio’s mouth with his own, the wine a faint taste on his tongue.

 

“ _I love you,_ ” Gladio whispered, never once removing his lips from Ignis’.

 

“ _I love you, too_.”

 

They were moving fast, skipping everything and rushing right into making love. When Ignis pulled his fingers out, there was an emptiness he felt that he knew would only be temporary. He lined Gladio up with his entrance, aching to feel as close as he possibly could with him but knowing still that wouldn’t be enough. It was a start, though. Slow and deliberate, he sunk down onto Gladio’s cock, both moaning a chorus of ‘ _Fuck_ ’ and names and other nonsense.

 

Soon, Ignis was flesh against Gladio’s hips, hands spread against his chest in an attempt to ground himself in this moment. When he was ready he lifted up, drawing a whine from Gladio as he did so. Before Gladio was completely out of him, Ignis came down agonizingly slow — torture for both of them as they were far too wound up at this point.

 

“ _Iggy_ ,” Gladio hissed, tugging Ignis down into a languorous kiss as he bit and pulled at his lower lip. “Holy _fuck_ you feel amazing.”

 

Ignis’ forehead rested against Gladio’s as he rocked his hips a couple of times before inching up and back down again. They lost themselves in each other, Gladio pulling the sheets up to cover them so they were in their own world. No one could touch them. They were infinite. And, because words would never do the feeling’s in Ignis’ heart justice, he’d try his hardest to express what he felt right here in the bedroom.

 

Feeling Gladio inside of him, cock throbbing while his own smeared come between his stomach and Gladio’s, made Ignis feel whole. Despite the ache of exertion in his thighs, Ignis continued to ride him. He tangled his fingers in dark locks and moaned openly into the man’s mouth

 

So lost was Ignis that he failed to notice Gladio reaching between them, thumbing at the slit of Ignis’ dick and dragging come down his length. Ignis broke away from their kiss, tossing his head back and moving to give Gladio more room to touch him. Stroke him. Mentally begging him to please never stop making him feel this good.

 

He balled the sheets in one fist while the other, placed next to Gladio’s head on the pillow, held him up slightly, though that was proving to be quite the challenge with how deft Gladio’s hand worked him into a frenzy, making him weak. From base to tip, all while still bottomed out inside of Ignis, Gladio stroked him in time with his own pace.

 

The pressure built and Ignis was ready to explode at any given moment. The humidity of the beach air, coupled with the body heat, made for a sheen of sweat on both of their brows, down their necks, and dripping from their upper bodies. Nails clawed at skin, leaving angry red trails in their wake. Pleas and begging were all but drowned out by the crashing of waves outside their room.

 

Just a few more strokes and Ignis cried out, back arching and every muscle tensing as he spilled himself between him and Gladio, a mess in Gladio’s hand. Then, not a second later, Gladio chased his own release, holding Ignis down and clinging for life as he finished, a boneless heap under Ignis when he was done. They were quiet, only focused on each other as they tried to catch their breath, riding the high of their orgasm for as long as they could.

 

Slowly, sensitive to even the simplest of touch, Ignis eased up and off of Gladio, nestling beside him and burying his head into the crook of his shoulder. Typically, after they had sex, they’d quickly jump out of bed and clean up. They never stayed in bed long enough to just bask in each other’s company. It was a steadfast routine that was as expected as breathing. But, as Ignis counted Gladio’s heartbeat, thudding loud in his chest, he realized he wasn’t ready to leave the bed just yet for cleanliness sake. Yes, they were sticky and the room smelled of sex and a shower would _definitely_ be in order soon enough, but for now, there was nowhere else that Ignis wanted to be than right there in Gladio’s arms.

 

“Iggy?” Gladio croaked, finally finding his voice after several long minutes. Ignis hummed, his eyelids heavy with exhaustion. A kiss was pressed to the top of his head and Ignis was hugged a little closer to Gladio’s body. “I’m really happy.”

 

Ignis moved so he could rest his chin on Gladio’s chest, cracking one eye open and smiling up at him. “I’m happy, too. More than you know.”

 

“Good. We deserve happiness.”

 

“Yes . . . yes, we do. Forever” He kissed Gladio one more time. “I love you.”

 

“Love you, too.”

 

Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so this definitely just started as Moonside and I screaming about this Coffee Shop AU. It was Promptis and somehow Gladnis was thrown in and all of a sudden we were collabing and making this silly fic for our favorite boys. It was effortless and I have no idea how we got here but we did and it's done and I'm like . . . well dang! That was a lot of fun!! I really hope you guys enjoyed it as much as I loved writing it <3
> 
> BUT HUGE SHOUTOUT TO MOONSIDE because we screamed every day for the last two months over this fic. I haven't had this much fun writing in a long time and I know it's all because of her. She helped me out so much when I got frustrated and cheered me on when I needed it most. <3 Thank you so much for being the bestest friend, screaming about these boys, and choosing me to join you on this Coffee Shop AU journey! YOU ARE THE BEST!!!
> 
> Annndddddd we had so much fun that we're looking into another collab soooooo keep an eye out! :) 
> 
> Again, thank you all so much for all the comments, the kudos, the messages, everything! It makes my heart so happy <3 THANK YOU!!!


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